Calling Time
by Bohemia86
Summary: {REPOST }The Doctor gave Martha a list of things to look out for when he became John Smith...but he didn't tell her what to do if Rose materialised inside the Tardis. My retelling of Human Nature/The Family of Blood. A reunion fic of sorts! 10/Rose I started this story a very long time ago, and it's time for it to end. Structure adapted to four parts.
1. Part One

Okay, so I've reposted this because I'm in the process of finishing the final part. I've restructured it so that it will be posted in four parts with individual chapters contained within each part (I've left the original numbers in). The final part will be posted very soon. It's time for this story to be finished (FINALLY!) As always, reviews are welcomed with joy.

* * *

Chapter 1

The boys traipsed in from cricket practice marking the previously spotless parquet with remnants of pitch and droplets of the bad weather that had called time on the final minutes of their game; they paid little or no attention to the young 'maid' who watched in horror as her morning's work was undone in under twenty seconds. As the boys disappeared into the main body of the school Martha sighed heavily and once again reached for her wire scrubbing brush. It was at times like this that she began to wonder why she'd thought travelling through Space and Time was a better idea than finishing her medical training. "You know why," she muttered crossly to herself as she tried to push away the image of the Doctor that swam into her mind. Her efforts failed miserably as she heard him chastising the boys for the mess that they were making of the floor.

'You wouldn't make this mess at home would you? So why do you think it is acceptable to make it at school? ' There was a brief pause and Martha herad a short mumble before the Doctor started speaking again. 'They were rhetorical questions Baines. Rhetorical question meaning 'a figure of speech in the form of a question posed for its persuasive effect without the expectation of a reply; encouraging the listener to reflect on what the implied answer to the question must be. Overall, this means that you are not required to speak. Learn the definition well gentlemen and perhaps try and find your manners next time you are about to tread foliage across a floor that Martha has spent all morning cleaning.'

Martha smiled involuntarily as she heard his rambling explanation – even layers of Time Lord technology couldn't completely disguise the Doctor's true nature with humanity. But Martha's smile faded as she once again had to accept the fact that there was currently no Doctor, just the very human John Smith in his place. They had been at the school for nearly three weeks now and t here had still been no sign of The Family; the essence of the Doctor was safely locked away and Martha was devoting herself to keeping him away from any kind of danger until the detector told her it was safe to reveal his true identity.

As the bell rang for lunchtime Martha steeled herself for the stampede of boys that would inevitably barge through the corridor heading for the dining hall. 'Er, excuse me?' the Doctor's sharp voice caused Martha to look up just in time to see him grab the collars of Jeremy Baines and Robert Price as all three appeared in the entrance hall. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To change for lunch," Baines replied.

"You can change for lunch if you have time, but only after you've rescrubbed this floor," the Doctor pointed at the trails of mud.

"But that's a maid's job," Baines looked disgusted.

"Well in that case you're about to test out a career as a maid then," The Doctor replied and Martha looked away quickly wh en he shot her a glance.

"Would you like me to fetch some pinafores for you?" Matron Joan Redfern appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Martha's heart twisted as she saw the shy look pass between Joan and the Doctor – she wasn't sure how she'd missed the little blossoming attraction that now seemed so blindingly obvious.

"No, that won't be necessary Ma'am," Baines muttered darkly as he nudged his friend and they both crouched by Martha's bucket.

"Now Martha," she jumped as the Doctor addressed her directly with a toothy smile. It was odd how such a familiar face now seemed like a stranger's. "I believe you told me that you had this afternoon off. I'll make sure these two scrub up to your standards."

"Th-th-thank you Sir," she stammered, cursing herself for falling over her words. She hurriedly curtsied before spinning on her heel and heading for the servant's exit. She didn't even think to stop by her room to change out of her uniform; she needed to get to the Tardis. The Doctor's, no John Smith's eyes terrified her – they were warm and kind, but they held none of the power and reassurance of the Doctor's brown orbs. She quickened her pace as she nimbly hopped over the stile and entered the woods at the edge of the school's sprawling acres of playing greens. Within minutes the familiar blue wood of the Tardis stood out prominently against the ancient oaks it was nestled between, and Martha heaved an involuntary sigh of relief as she slipped her key into the lock and stepped inside.

Martha frowned as the door shut behind her with a soft click; something didn't feel right and her eyes widened in concern as she took a few tentative steps further up the metal grates of the ramp. The Tardis hummed and the lights flickered without warning. 'What's going on?' Martha whispered to the empty room. Did this have something to do with The Family?

Suddenly, blinding lights shot out from the central column and Martha dr opped to the ground, shielding her eyes as she stumbled back against the door. Beams of golden light swirled and danced through the control room before forming a shimmering orb about the size of a cricket ball in the air in front of Martha's face. She hesitantly stole a glance from between her fingers and watched in amazement as the ball began to pulse and grow. The urge to run away was becoming stronger but Martha was transfixed and unable to move as a wind whipped through the room with a great whooshing sound. Straining hard against the strength of the elements Martha managed to pull her knees to her chest and tuck her head under her arms.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind dropped to a final whisper and the only sound left was Martha's uneven breathing as she fought to regain control of her heartbeat. Long moments passed before she dared lift her head to survey the room; she jumped in surprise, letting out a small squeal as she took in the sight before her. Everything was perfectly normal; everything was as it should be…apart from the girl lying only a few inches from where Martha sat, blonde hair splayed around her face like a makeshift halo.

'Oh my God,' Martha breathed as she staggered to her feet. 'What the hell is going on?'

* * *

Chapter 2

Rose Tyler groaned as she tried to open her eyes, battling the heaviness that seemed to resonate through every cell in her body. Eventually her lashes parted slightly and she blinked to clear away the last of the gold swirls at the edge of her vision…and gasped in shock; her heart was pounding as she gingerly pushed herself into a sitting position and gaped at the oh-so-familiar central column of the Tardis.

'Who the hell are you?'

Rose whirled around to face the owner of the voice. Her mouth opened and closed in silent confusion as she took in the young woman dressed in a maid's uniform. This had to be dream. Didn't it?

'Well?' repeated Martha as she folded her arms across her chest in what she hoped was a confident manner. She had no idea who this strange girl was – could she be a member of The Family?

'M-my name's Rose,' Rose stammered as she shakily got to her feet and backed further away from the maid. 'Rose Tyler.'

Martha's eyes widened. 'No,' she whispered shaking her head, 'you can't be…' She took a step towards Rose, staring intently at her. 'You're gone. Trapped in a parallel world. You can't be her. Who are you? What are you?'

'I-I-I told you,' Rose's eyes were now even wider than Martha's. 'My name's Rose Tyler. How did you know about the parallel world? How did I get here? Who are you? Where's the Doctor? What have you done to him? Is this real? Or is this someone's idea of a sick joke?' The questions spilled from her mouth, each one running directly into the next as Rose desperately tried to make sense of the situation. She was now shaking so violently she slid to the floor and wrapped her arms tightly around herself; she looked up at Martha with tear-filled brown eyes and whispered, 'why are you doing this to me? Why does my head hurt so much?'

Martha's heart gave a sickening lurch as she contemplated the possibility that the broken girl in front of her really w as Rose Tyler. She didn't look like a murderous alien, she looked like a lost little girl; Martha took a deep breath as she a decided on a course of action – if this was Rose Tyler then the Doctor needed to know. 'My name's Martha Jones: I travel with the Doctor.' At the mention of the Doctor a shadow of desperation and heartbreak flickered in Rose's eyes; the same shadow that Martha had seen in the Doctor's eyes every time Rose's name had been mentioned. 'Oh God,' Martha breathed,' it really is you, isn't it? But…how did you get here?'

Rose clutched her head as another wave of blinding pain pierced her behind her eyes. 'I don't know,' she gasped out before sagging to the floor as her eyes slid shut.

Martha ducked forwards and put her hand to Rose's neck sighing in relief as she felt the erratic heartbeat beginning to slow. She quickly untied the apron from around her waist, bunched it up and slipped it under Rose's head. 'What do I do?' she pleaded to the silence. 'What do I do?'

**ooOOoo**

The grammar book hit the floor with a dull thud as John Smith staggered forward, one hand grasping his head as the other gripped the edge of the desk to support his weight. A blinding light seared through his eyes like fire and he couldn't hold in the cry of surprise and pain as a second wave hit him. His head was full of voices; shouting, screaming, pleading – he tried desperately to block the dreadful cacophony out.

'Sir!' Timothy Latimer cried, jumping to his feet alongside a number of his classmates. 'Sir? Are you alright? Anderson fetch Matron quickly!'

George Anderson rushed from the room as Timothy and couple of other boys helped their History master into his chair, wide-eyed in alarm at the sudden decline of Dr Smith.

'I'm fine boys, thank you,' Smith gasped out, his breathing ragged as the pain lessened to a muted throbbing. He'd never felt such pain in his life, but the whispers…oh the whispers he'd recognised from his dreams; terrible cries of anguish and agony that seemed to course through the adventures he experienced in his mind.

Nurse Redfern burst into the room and hurried to the teacher's side, 'Dr Smith are you alright? What happened?'

'I-I-I'm not too sure,' he mumbled, running his hand through his hair, the voices leaving him completely.

'You must go to my office at once,' Joan instructed. 'Latimer?'

'Yes Matron?'

'Help Dr Smith to my room, I shall join you once I've found another teacher for this class.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' Timothy bobbed his head slightly before helping his teacher to his feet and supporting his weight as they walked out of the classroom, the eyes of every boy wide and staring at their teacher. But they didn't see what Timothy saw; they were oblivious to the faint, golden glow that seemed to hold Dr Smith in it's grasp for a fraction of a second as the classroom door clicked shut behind them. Nor did they hear that whisper tha t skittered lightly through the corridor, loud enough that only Timothy heard, 'Time Lord.'

**ooOOoo**

'Rose. Rose, wake-up. Rose!'

Rose grumbled and tried to swat the pleading voice away with her hand, 'GowayMum.'

'Rose,' the voice continued. 'It's me, Martha.'

After a few seconds Rose's eyelids flew open as the events of earlier came rushing back to her in a blur. She scrambled into a sitting position and looked around wildly. 'It wasn't a dream,' she breathed as the familiar surroundings of the Tardis enveloped her vision. 'But where's the Doctor?' Her breath hitched as she saw Martha's crestfallen expression. 'Oh my God…he's not…' Rose trailed off, her throat closing up at such a horrible thought.

'No! No, no, no,' Martha reassured her quickly with a small smile. 'He's not dead! But,' her face fell again, 'he isn't here. He's gone.'

'What do you mean?' Rose asked, crinkles appearing on her forehead as she tried to understand what Martha was t rying to say.

'We were being chased, yeah? By these aliens, they call themselves The Family. They're these green…telepathic…things. Sorry, the Doctor's better at explaining this kind of stuff,' Martha paused as Rose gave her a sympathetic smile. 'They inhabit bodies but only have a really short lifespan; so they want the Doctor because he could give them immortality. So we ran, and ended up in 1913 England.'

'But how could they follow you?'

'They have a vortex-manipulator.'

'Oh,' Rose nodded as if that was the most normal thing in the world and Martha took a small step closer to believing what was happening.

'So,' Martha continued; she steeled herself for what she was going to have to explain to Rose, 'the Doctor made himself human.' The words seemed to echo around the silent Tardis.

'What?' Rose breathed. 'How?'

'Time Lord technology,' Martha replied. 'His…well…essence…is hidden in an old fob-watch; his real identity is hi dden from himself so that The Family will die out before they find him. He's just John Smith; history teacher.'

'So he can't remember anything?' Rose was battling a storm of emotions on the inside, but was determined to put up a fight.

Martha took a deep breath, 'it's not that he can't remember. He's a completely different person – the Doctor is gone until The Family are. John Smith has none of the Doctor's thoughts or memories...or emotions,' she saw Rose flinch as this knowledge sunk in.

'I've spent so much time trying to get back to him.' The raw anguish in Rose's voice felt like a punch to Martha's stomach; she suddenly felt regret for every moment she had spent wishing that the Doctor would just forget about Rose and see what was right in front of him.

'Martha, I need to see him,' Rose whispered.

'But you can't!' Martha replied, violently shaking her head.

'You said he doesn't remember anything – so it won't make any difference,' Rose countered.

'Rose, you don't understand,' Martha sighed, and let go of any hope she had left about the Doctor falling for her. 'He has never stopped thinking about you…ever; and God knows I know how hard it is for him to think about anything else…to see anyone else.' The unspoken admission of unrequited feelings hung in the air and Martha waited for the recriminations from Rose to begin, but they didn't; instead she received a genuine, sympathetic smile. 'I'm afraid that,' she continued, 'I'm afraid that if he sees you he'll somehow work out what's going on and The Family will find us.'

Rose nodded in understanding, but she still couldn't agree. 'Martha, I don't know how I got here, and I've got even less of an idea how long I could be here before I get pulled back to my world. Please just let me see him, let me talk to him?' she pleaded. 'Let me try and help you. Both of you. I can't go back without speaking to him – I swear I'll run at the first sign of him recognising me…but please? Martha, you know he's worth the risk.'

Their eyes met in unspoken agreement. Martha silently cursed the Doctor for leaving her a long list of things she should look out for while he was human but not including anything even remotely useful for this situation. Rose was here, his Rose in the Tardis; Martha closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she made her decision. 'Okay,' she nodded solemnly, 'but I can't get you into the school as a maid – we only just managed to get me in that way.'

'What can we do?' Rose would have grinned at the conspiratorial nature of their conversation if she wasn't so terrified.

'I dunno,' Martha replied. 'Let's see what the psychic paper says!'

* * *

Chapter 3

"Right, are you ready?" Martha put the last pin in her hair and shrugged on her coat. Rose nodded and lock the trunk's clasp with a loud click. The Tardis was eerily silent as she ticked over on emergency power. "I'll run back to the school now and pretend the letter's only just arrived. I think it looks pretty authentic if I do say so myself!" She held up the envelope which she'd spent an hour dunking in tea and blowdrying. "And you?"

Rose stopped pacing and chewed her lip, "I'll arrive in about half an hour….although lugging this thing," she pointed at the trunk, "it might take days! Then you'll announce my arrival and hopefully they'll fall for it."

"Perfect," Martha smiled and pulled a piece of paper from her apron pocket. "I almost forgot to give you this," she handed the slip to Rose. "Psychic paper. The Headmaster will just see it as an offer of a large donation from your Dad."

"Are you sure there was a Tyler in the list of ben efactors?"

"Positive," Martha nodded vigorously. "Couldn't believe it myself when I looked at the list – there it was right at the bottom of the last page, scribbled as if someone had added it in a rush. Almost as if…" her eyes widened as she trailed off.

"Almost as if…" Rose also couldn't quite voice her thoughts. "No, it can't be. It's just a coincidence that's all."

"Yeah, yeah, course," Martha nodded, entirely without conviction. "You know," she paused, collecting her thoughts, "you don't have to do this if you don't want to. We could just get him to open the watch, yeah it means we'll have to run again but at least he'd kn-"

"No," Rose shook her head and stared at Martha. "You know he wouldn't want that. It's too-"

"But he's been…" her interruption ran out of steam as she realised she had no real idea of how to explain how the Doctor had been since she met him.

"Martha, we can't," Rose smiled sadly. "I could get pulled back ac ross at any moment. I've got to do this…just in case. Just to prove to myself that I didn't dream it all."

Martha silently took back every uncharitable thought she'd ever had about Rose and wrapped the impossible blonde in a hug.

"This is completely mad," Rose muttered as they pulled apart and Martha opened the Tardis door.

"And you're surprised by that?"

"No," Rose laughed lightly. "I guess not."

"Right," Martha smoothed down her uniform. " Back to work! Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," replied as the door closed. Try as she might she couldn't stop the huge smile that broke out. There were a lot of things that needed sorting out and explaining, but right now it was one step at a time.

Martha, on the other hand, sighed heavily as she hurried through the woods. What on Earth was she going to do about Joan?

**ooOOoo**

"Miss Tyler we are again so incredibly sorry we weren't ready for your arrival." The Headmaster's stream of ingratiating commen ts hadn't stopped since Rose had arrived an hour ago. Martha's psychic paper donation had clearly worked a treat.

Nurse Redfern, however, didn't seem entirely thrilled to have Rose around – she'd caught the hushed protestations upon the Matron's arrival.

"That's perfectly alright Headmaster," Rose replied, coughing when she realised that she sounded exactly like Cassandra. Shaking her head and trying out as posh an accent as she could muster she continued, "my father really should have waited until he received a reply, but as I said he and my mother were eager to leave for New York on time."

"New York?" Joan asked in surprise. "That is quite a distance. Why have you not accompanied them?" The Headmaster cleared his throat and she hurriedly added,'"if you don't mind me asking, of course."

"Not at all," Rose felt on her guard with Joan; She was clearly sharper than the Headmaster. "I was invited to accompany them but I did not feel up to such an…arduous journey. I have been…er…out of sorts for much of the last year." Well that was one way of putting it she supposed. "My father suggested that I spend some time away from the city which is why he offered my services as some help to yourself Matron."

The voice from the corridor caused Rose's body to go completely rigid. "Walker! Milton! Stop Running! What are you doing out of your lessons? Right let's see if the Headmaster has any knowledge of that shall we?" Rose was already expecting the knock but she flinched anyway.

"Come in," summoned the Headmaster looking a little put-out that his moneyed-guest was hearing such shouting.

"Headmaster, these two-" he stopped abruptly as Rose slowly got to her feet. "Oh I'm terribly sorry Headmaster, I didn't realise you…" he trailed off again holding Rose in his gaze the entire time, almost squinting.

"Milton, Wallker! Wait outside!" The Headmaster bellowed. The door clicked shut and the sound seemed to snap John back to reality and he finally looked away.

Rose was…well, she didn't really know how she was feeling, other than suddenly exhausted. The Doctor…well John Smith…he looked a little older than she remembered, and a lot less hyperactive. How voice was gentler, his accent softer and harder to pin down, and when she realised he was smiling at her in ignorant welcome she felt her heart break. For a second she'd thought he'd recognised her, the selfish part of her had wanted him to recognise her; for the spell to be broken and for him to explain exactly how this was all possible…probably at a million miles an hour, using words she'd never understand.

"Mr John Smith, this is Miss Rose Tyler." The Headmaster smiled pompously. "Miss Tyler's father is a prominent benefactor of this institution and he has kindly offered her services as help to Matron.

"It's lovely to meet you Miss Tyler," John smiled warmly, all thoughts of possible recognition ha d clearly flitted away with the exit of Milton and Walker.

"Mr Smith," Rose nodded, not really knowing what else to say. She was back in her universe, albeit in 1913, in the same room as the Doctor and it wasn't a dream. She knew it was definitely real when she felt her heart lurch at the nervous smiles that passed between John and Joan. This was all wrong and all she wanted to do was run. Run all the way back to her family.

There was another knock at the door and Martha was admitted. "Miss Tyler's accommodation is prepared," she curtseyed. She looked over to Rose who had paled to the colour of her apron. She had to stop herself from asking what had happened. Familiarity would ruin the plan.

"Very good," the Headmaster nodded gesturing towards Martha. " Miss Tyler, Mary here will take you to your quarters. As it is late in the day I will arrange for you to have a tour of the school tomorrow. I will send Mary to summon you for dinner at seven."

"Thank you Sir," Rose managed to mumble in a hollow voice.

The Headmaster smiled again. "Nurse Redfern would you be so kind as to escort Milton and Walker in?" He turned to John, "Mr Smith, could you take care of Miss Tyler's belongings? I would ask a prefect but I'm sure Miss Tyler wouldn't want to wait until the end of lessons."

"Oh…erm…" Rose stammered. "I can carry them myself."

"Gracious no!" cried the Headmaster. "It's no trouble, is it John?"

"Oh no, not at all," John smiled shyly.

"Follow me ma'am," Martha curtseyed to Rose. There was something she needed to tell her before they reached the lodgings she had spent the last hour dusting and preparing. "Rose I need to t-" she was cut off as Milton and Walker sheepishly sidestepped past her, bumping her slightly as they did so.

"Where to Headmaster?" John indicated Rose's trunk.

"Ah, Miss Tyler is your new neighbour,' there was the ingratiating smile again. "Next door."

"Rose' s eyes widened and Martha tried desperately to avoid looking at her. "Oh how nice," John smiled again as he moved towards the trunk.

"Er yeah," Rose mumbled. "Lovely."

**ooOOoo**

Timothy Lattimer sat alone in his dormitory hoping that nobody would catch him missing Cricket. He'd definitely seen the odd golden glow that seemed to hover around Mr Smith, nobody else had said anything, but he knew he was right. There was something strange about the new History Master; he always looked as if her was on the verge of remembering something, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue just waiting to trip into reality. But that couldn't be right…

Could it?

**ooOOoo**

"If you please Ma'am," Martha motioned for Rose to enter into the room first.

"Here we are then," John was breathing heavily as he placed the trunk on the floor. "Pardon my asking Miss Tyler, but are you carrying around bricks in this?"

He laughed lightly and Rose's cheeks coloured at his gently mo cking tone. She would have replied but she was preoccupied with not going into complete meltdown, so instead she nodded mutely, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Are you unwell Miss Tyler?" And there he was – the Doctor. Just for a split-second; concern etched on his face as he instinctively reached out a hand to lightly touch her arm. She gasped involuntarily but he didn't notice as he found himself dealing with a flash of that same searing pain from earlier. His hand flew to his forehead immediately.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Rose cried in concern, this time it was her who reached out to him. "Doctor?" she added without thinking.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly. "Well…mostly. Just a misfiring of the synapses caused by some unexpected residual huon particles leaking into my consciousness. Shouldn't cause too many problems.'

"What?" Rose's eyebrows arched in surprise – that had been the Doctor's voice.

"What?" chimed in Martha.

"What?" Jo hn completed the trip. "Ow…erm…I'm sorry," he patted his hair down before blinking and shaking his head. "Slight headache. Nothing to worry about. I apologise for alarming you Miss Tyler."

"Would you like me to fetch Matron, Sir?" Martha asked in panic. Though she had no idea how Joan could possibly make this situation better.

"No, no thank you Martha," John replied. "Just a brief relapse from this afternoon. Please fetch Miss Tyler some tea though."

Martha bobbed into a curtsey before shooting Rose a worried glance. A human with a headache was one thing, but a Time Lord trapped in a human body…well that was another thing entirely. Preferring not to think about the consequences she left the room to make tea. Tea seemed to help in every situation.

Rose blushed when she suddenly realised that her hand was still clasped around John's wrist. She quickly released him with an embarrassed cough and drew her hands behind her back. A bell sounded from wi thin the depths of the school signalling the end of the day.

"Please excuse me Miss Tyler, I must see to it that the boys head back to their dormitories and begin prep before dinner."

"Rose," she babbled before she could stop herself. "Please just call me Rose."

"Rose," he smiled with a nod.

Rose felt as though she was being embraced by the word, a sense of warmth enveloped her mind and for a fleeting moment she could pretend that everything was back to the way it used to be.

"Then you must call me John," he grinned and the spell was broken. This wasn't the Doctor, this was John Smith. But Rose resolved that she needed to stay here long enough for this business with 'The Family' to sort itself out, long enough to find the Doctor. "Well, I really must be off," John smiled apologetically. "I shall see you at dinner though?" He started towards the door.

"Yes of course," she replied, inwardly cursing herself for not being able to say no.

"Well that's very good…Rose," John's lips formed her name and something in his brain momentarily sparked. An odd sensation of really knowing this woman overcame him and he halted at the door frame. "Rose I must ask?" he stopped, feeling embarrassed. "I apologise if this sounds odd, but have we met before?" He looked plaintively at her for a long moment. "No, no of course we haven't. I'm sure I would have remembered. I'm sure of it." The cacophony of the boys, free from their lessons, met their ears and John remembered himself. "Boys! Yes, I really must go," he backed out of the door, "and I will see you at dinner." He smiled taking one more step backwards, before promptly falling down the stairs.

* * *

Chapter 4

John's tumbling descent down the stairs ended with him knocking Harry Walker down the last few steps. Deathly silence fell over the corridor as each and every boy looked on in horror. Rose and Martha barrelled down the stairs and immediately dropped to John's side. Martha had to sit on her hands to stop herself from giving him a full check up, she couldn't risk showing any medical knowledge whatsoever.

"Doc-Mr Smith, are you alright? Can you open your eyes?' Rose pleaded desperately as her hand flew to the cut above his eye. John opened his left eye slowly and groaned as every bone in his body began to ache; Rose let out a relieved sigh and gingerly reached her fingers around to the back of his head to check for bumps – thankfully she found nothing that seemed too serious, although she would be surprised if the little bump she felt wouldn't soon be the size of a duck egg.

Walker clambered to his feet and clutched his right arm to his chest protectively. The other boys in the corridor let out a chorus of amused, and relieved, cheers upon discovering that neither Mr Smith nor Walker was dead. Martha took the opportunity to whisper hurriedly to Rose, "We need to get him upstairs. Once we're away from prying eyes I can check him for concussion."

Rose nodded as the door to the Headmaster's study burst open and the man himself stormed into the melee. "What the blazes is going on?" he yelled as he surveyed the surprising scene. "Mr Smith!" The chatter continued relentlessly.

Mr Smith was just about ready to open his right eye as well when his ears were assaulted by the Headmaster's yelling. "Rose?" he whispered with a slight slur. "Rose, are you there?" He suddenly found himself looking up into a pair of familiar brown eyes. "Hello," he added, not entirely sure why a surge of emotion rushed through his veins.

"Hello," her response was so quiet it was almost inaudible. She helped him into a sitting p osition and his head was spinning as he leaned against the wall for support.

"Mr Smith!" Nurse Redfern cried as she appeared behind the Headmaster. Before she could reach the fallen teacher, however, a whimpering Walker thrust his wrist in front of her face as he squeaked unintelligibly. She gently took his arm and watched as it turned a deeper shade of purple.

"There. Will. Be. Silence!" The Headmaster roared and immediately the tense hush descended on the corridor once again. "Those of you who are not involved are to return to your dormitories at once, your teachers will be escorting you. At once!" He glared angrily at his students until they had disappeared. "Matron, please take care of Walker, I'm sure his wrist is not supposed to be that size!"

Joan began to protest, 'But, Mr Smith he could have-"

"A concussion," Rose finished for her. "Yes, I was just about to check. Martha, was it? Would you mind helping me in taking Mr Smith upstairs to my qua rters? I have everything I need up there. That is, of course, if that's alright with you Headmaster." She added the last part as she knew the overbearing man would be unable to say no.

"Of course, Miss Tyler,' he replied. "Though I must point out that this is not something we would normally expect from our guests."

"I'm not a guest," Rose replied as she helped John to his feet and draped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm just doing my job." Without waiting for a reply she and Martha began supporting John back up the staircase, leaving a slightly baffled Joan limply holding onto Walker's arm.

**ooOOoo**

Jeremy Baines had almost died laughing when he'd seen Mr Smith hurtle down the stairs. "Served him right," he grinned to himself as he breathed in the fresh air. He'd taken the opportunity of slipping away from the crowd in all of the confusion and escape from the school. He climbed over the boundary wall and ducked into the dense forest beyond. He had originally inten ded to sneak out at lunchtime to fetch the alcohol stash for the coming weekend's clandestine festivities - the teachers were less likely to catch you if you did this deed on a Thursday, Friday was the day they were suspicious and looking out for it – but then that Mr Smith had made him stay behind and scrub the floor like a servant. He smirked as he remembered Smith's accident, but his pleasure was cut short as he realised that the inky twilight was going to make his search a little harder than usual.

An instant later the forest was bathed in an eerie green light and Baines' eyes automatically shot to the sky as he tried to locate the source. There, high above him, a glowing object was burning a trail through the sky as it fell towards the Earth. Baines, all thoughts of the beer stash wiped from his mind, found himself hurrying towards the spot where he thought the object would touch down.

High above him The Family were ready.

Ten minutes later Jeremy Ed ward Baines paid dearly for his actions.

**ooOOoo**

Rose hurried back to her room with a damp cloth while Martha ran up to her quarters to dig out her secret stash of twenty-first century medicine. Rose had, with Martha whispering conspiratorial directions, ascertained that John was suffering from a mild concussion and needed observation. On the plus side there didn't seem to be any serious injuries. The blonde made it back to John first and her features softened as she came across the pitiful sight in front of her. Leaning against the open door she watched his eyes close sleepily; his academic robe was discarded on the floor next to the chair he had gratefully sunk into, his bow-tie hung undone around his neck, and his hair was sticking up at manic angles. He'd taken off his glasses and he looked exactly as the Doctor had done when he'd spent Christmas Eve unconscious after his regeneration had gone wrong.

Unconscious! Rose's eyes widened and she ran towards him. "John!"

"What?" he started, eyes bolting open. Rose felt a little guilty as he winced in pain.

"Sorry, I thought you were unconscious," Rose replied sheepishly.

"Not quite," he blinked a few times to clear his head. "Not quite."

Martha returned with a tray laden with provisions. She handed John a cup of tea which he took gratefully. Although when he took the first sip he began wishing that he had refused it.

"Martha, what is in this tea?"

"Just a headache cure from back home," Martha smiled.

"Well it tastes awful," he whined, but took another sip when Rose looked at him pointedly.

"I'll just draw the curtains Ma'am," Martha said. "Paracetamol, ibuprofen and a dash of caffeine, he'll be fine in no time," she added in a whisper as she walked past Rose.

Rose stifled a smile as John pulled another face.

"What the hell is that?" Martha cried suddenly, her hands stilling on the plush red fabric.

"What?" Rose hurried to her s ide and looked out in to the darkness.

"There was a green light in the sky. It fell towards the forest."

The two women exchanged a nervous glance as they contemplated the obvious explanation. The Family had somehow tracked the Doctor here.

* * *

Chapter 5

John lay on his bed with his head resting on a pile of pillows, knees drawn up so he could use them as a place to rest a notebook. He had one eye closed and the other was squinting as he tried to alleviate the fog in his brain for long enough to scribble his thoughts down. Rose had protested and told him that he needed to rest (but not sleep!), and had drawn up a chair by the window to make sure that her instructions were followed. He smiled slightly as he looked over at her, the book she'd been reading lay uselessly on her lap as she dozed.

Dinner had long since gone cold on the sideboard; Martha had delivered it before leaving for the evening to head into town with her friend Jenny. A lovely girl that Martha, John thought as he traced a vague interpretation of her on the page in front of him. He had an idea about why she always seemed so perfectly willing to do everything he asked of her, and more, but he discarded the thought as ungentlemanly an d concluded that he could not and should not guess at her private thoughts and feelings.

A soft knock at the door startled him, Rose stirred in her sleep but did not wake.

"Come in," John called softly, hiding the journal under a pillow.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," it was Joan. "But I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. Not too damaged I hope?"

John held a finger to his lips and glanced over at Rose.

"Oh!" Joan looked flustered and lowered her voice. "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realise that Miss Tyler was…erm…"

"Not to worry," John whispered with a smile. "Thank you for your concern."

"Oh it is nothing," Joan blushed fiddling with the buttons on her coat.

"And how is Walker?"

"Oh he'll live."

"Are you going out?" John noticed her outdoor attire for the first time.

"Yes. Yes I am," Joan nodded with an embarrassed smile. "Professor Mallory – Tom – has just invited me to join him for a drink this evening."

"Oh right," John's eyebrows arched slightly in surprise. A little stab of jealously shot through him at the news, "Right. Very good," he finished lamely, feeling his cheeks turning pink.

"Well as you know," Joan hurriedly explained, "he and my husband fought together many years ago and it was such a surprise to see him here at the start of the academic year. He thought it might be nice for us to get to know each other again…and remember Michael."

John felt guilty for his uncharitable thoughts towards Tom – afterall he had no claim on Joan's affections and should be happy for her. "Well that's excellent news," he smiled again, only slightly forced this time.

"Yes," Joan blushed again in the awkward silence that followed. "Well I really should go," she took a step backwards. "And you're sure you're alright?"

"I am. Miss Tyler is taking good care of me," he replied.

"I thought so," Joan said quietly. She shrugged with a sigh and opened the door. "Goodnight John. Take care."

As the door closed behind her John frowned. Joan didn't think there was anything going on between him and Rose did she? He hook his head and pulled out his journal again, his pen flying across the page as he recorded each detail of the dream he had experienced the night before. Martha had been in it again – he made a mental note not to tell her as she may misunderstand – this time she had been kidnapped by two people in a flying automobile. He, John Smith…no, he, The Doctor – for that is what he called himself, the great adventurer of his mind – had risked his life to save her. Being of a sensible nature John had taken to writing down all of his fantastical dreams in a n attempt to make sense of them.

He often woke in the middle of the night, screams of agony rattling through his mind, still echoing hours later when he lay awake. But the image that haunted him the most was always the same: a once beautiful landscape with an orange sky burning and shrieking out of existence leaving him alone in a different place – a white room, his head pressed against the blank wall feeling as though he'd just lost a part of his soul.

Even thinking about it now caused him to shudder and he quickly pushed the nightmares away. His forehead throbbed and he gingerly lifted a hand to run his fingers lightly over the small dressing that Rose had applied with far more care than was probably necessary. He smiled at the memory of her concern – eyes wide with emotion for this man she'd only just met – then he caught himself smiling and coughe in solitary embarrassment.

A man's voice followed by a tinkiling laugh floated up from outside – Joan and Tom were on their way out. The green-eyed monster raised its ugly head momentarily but he quickly pushed that away too. Rose stirred once more in her sleep, a small frown crossing her brow as the book on her lap tumbled to the ground with a soft thud. John caught himself smiling again and suddenly wished that he was far away from this room. He wanted to go back to his uncomplicated, humble life when everything made sense.

Although now that he thought about it…he couldn't actually remember when that was.

* * *

Chapter 6

Jeremy Baines had long left the body that skilfully scaled through the dormitory window just before ten o'clock, a smirk playing over his lips.

"Finally!" Peter Evans exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. His face crumpled into a frown when he saw his friend's empty hands. "Baines, old boy, where's the beer?'

"It was gone," Baines announced in a hollow voice, inhaling deeply as he closed the window behind him.

"What do you mean gone? How could it be gone?" hissed Evans as his face darkened. "I paid good money for it!"

"I said," Baines paused for effect as he gripped Evans' arm roughly, "it was gone." He inhaled again, eyes darting around the room and never focusing on one spot for more than a millisecond.

"Bloody hell Baines!" Evans cried as he was released from the vice-like hold, massaging his arm as he glared at the other boy. "What's wrong with you? You catch a cold and come over all ill-tempered!"

"Yes I suppose I do," Baines replied vaguely. He found Tim Latimer sitting on the floor staring up at him, almost as if the younger boy could see right through the disguise to what really lay beneath. "What are you looking at?"

"N-nothing," Tim stammered as Baines hauled to his feet by the collar.

Baines sneered and after a long moment he dropped the younger boy unceremoniously to the floor. "Right,' he swung around and caught the eye of every boy in the room. "To bed. All of you!"

"But Baines it's only just gone t-"

"I said now! I am the prefect here!" Baines yelled angrily and watched triumphantly as the younger boys all hurried under the blankets. This body needed rest. But tomorrow he'd begin his search. The Time Lord couldn't be far away…

**ooOOoo**

Rose started awake. "I'm not leaving," she mumbled sleepily, staring blearily at the man who was kneeling before her. The man who looked suspiciously amused. The man who looked incredibly familiar…

" Oh my God!" Rose shrieked, jumping to her feet as her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Her brain caught up with her eyes a second later and the events of the day came rushing back in a blur.

"Miss Tyler! Rose, I'm so sorry for startling you," John's eyes were wide in apology as he reached out to place a comforting hand on her arm. "Are you alright?"

"John," she gulped breathlessly as her heartbeat began to settle. "Forgive me, you surprised me."

"I'm so very sorry," his cheeks had reddened again. "You were talking in your sleep and you sounded distressed. I thought I should wake you. I realise now that it was not my place to do so. Please accept my apologies."

It was at that moment Rose was once again hit with the surreal nature of what was happening; Here was the Doctor, well sort of the Doctor, apologising…apologising…and nobody had died! More than that though he looked embarrassed, an emotion that, Rose was quite sure, the Time Lord would rather pretend he was incapable of experiencing. She shivered suddenly as remnants of her nightmare flickered through her consciousness.

"You're cold," John frowned.

"No, no," Rose covered her mouth as she yawned widely. "I just…" she trailed off knwoing that she couldn't explain any further.

"I suffer from nightmares myself," John admitted, looking a little surprised at his own revelation to this woman he barely knew. "Strange…fantastical dreams. Where I'm this…well…I'm…"

"You're what?" Rose asked quietly even though she had a pretty good idea of what his dreams were like.

John was silent for a few moments, seemingly contemplating his answer. "Well…" he trailed off once more. Suddenly he smiled brightly, automatically changing the tone of the moment. "It's not important. You would think me mad!"

Rose held back the teasing comment that was poised on her lips. She couldn't allow herself to fall into comfortable banter with this man; he wasn't the Doctor and she couldn't treat him as if he was. She also couldn't hold back yet another yawn as her body cried out for much needed sleep.

"Miss Tyler, Rose, please get some rest," John nodded seriously. "I will be fine – Martha's miracle teas has worked wonders. Honestly, I'm sure this is not how you had anticipated starting life in the country. Though I daresay you are used to lots of activity in the city. Although I could just be making wild assumptions based on what I know of London, which isn't very much at all really." He stopped as he caught her trying to suppress a smile. "Sorry…erm…that sentence…got away from me."

Rose laughed lightly, even though the sound didn't feel quite right to her ears. "If you're sure then Mr Smith. If you need anything I'm only next door," she walked towards the door, experiencing a sudden cold weight in the pit of her stomach as her eyes trailed over the discarded fob watch on the mantelpiece. She shiv ered involuntarily once more and couldn't shake the feeling that suddenly something was very, very wrong.

"Goodnight Rose," John said as she stepped into the hall.

"Goodnight John," Rose replied quietly. Stepping into her room she closed the door behind her and leaned back against the wood. The adrenaline that she had been running on since waking up in the Tardis ebbed suddenly and she crumpled to the floor, head buried in her knees as the brevity of the situation slammed into her with all the subtlety of a freight train. Deep gulps of air and fiery hot tears eventually gave way to quiet, hiccuping sobs and Rose wearily stumbled to her bed. Not stopping to change her clothes she curled up under the heavy down and hugged a pillow to her chest.

She couldn't be entirely sure that she would even be there in the morning. Worse still…she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be. Eventually she drifted into the welcome oblivion of sleep as exhaustion overtook her. Her last thought a silent prayer; please don't let me dream.

* * *

** Please Review**


	2. Part Two

Chapter 7

A soft knock announced Martha's entrance. John's concentration was torn from the journal resting on the desk and he felt his dreams slipping away from the grasping tendrils of his consciousness.

'Oh my apologies, Sir,' Martha blushed and ducked into a half curtsey as she raised the laden breakfast tray to shield her eyes. 'I was not aware that you would still be…erm…that your..er…attire…would be…um…'

John looked down at himself as she trailed off and he realised that he was still wearing his pyjamas. Normally, in such a situation, he would fluster about, babble an incoherent apology and probably bump into an item of furniture; but not today. He waved Martha's embarrassment off with a small smile and ran his hands through his hair. 'No, no, it's alright Martha,' he pointed at the tray before moving his journal and patting the now empty spot on his desk.

Martha noticed all of this with a frown. 'Are you alright Mr Smith?' Her medical training kicked in as she appraised the dressing on his forehead from a distance. 'Is it your head?'

'My h-? Oh no! No, no, Martha,' he looked at her as if he was only just registering her presence in the room. 'Sorry – I'm just…dreams that's all. Silly dreams.' Martha didn't look entirely convinced. 'Really,' he added with a small smile. She seemed placated as she placed the tray down where he had indicated. 'Have you…seen Ro-Miss Tyler this morning?'

'No, Sir. Not yet,' Martha answered, her heart twisting in her chest for just a second. 'I thought it best not to disturb her. After such a long journey an' all.'

'Quite right too,' he nodded as he automatically reached for the small pot of marmalade and a slice of toast, just as he had done every morning since arriving at the school three weeks ago. His hand stilled momentarily over the preserve spoon as he finished speaking, feeling as if they were not the right words for this particular momen t. He quickly shrugged this off, once again blaming his disturbed sleeping patterns.

'Will that be all, Sir?' Martha asked as she finished opening his curtains, allowing the sunlight to bathe the room in a golden glow.

'Yes, thank you Martha,' John smiled as she deftly stepped around his piles of textbooks on the floor. He really was very lucky to have Martha as his housemaid; she understood that he had his order systems for books and papers and was always very careful to clean around them. This was why he had brought her along to his new post in the first place. Wasn't it? He frowned and resumed his staring match with his toast.

Martha shot him one last quizzical look before departing, carefully letting the door click shut behind her. She stood outside John's room for a few seconds before tiptoeing to Rose's door and knocking almost inaudibly. 'Rose?' she hissed, face pressed as close to the door as possible. 'Rose, it's me.' For a long moment Martha was g reeted by silence; just as she began to fear that Rose had indeed been taken back across the void the door opened and she suddenly came face to face with big brown eyes highlighted by black trails of dried tears and mascara. 'Oh my God,' Martha breathed, 'are you okay?'

Rose sucked in her breath and exhaled slowly as she nodded. 'Sorry,' she tried to smile. 'Rough night. Come in.' She held the door open as Martha stepped into the room before shutting it quietly again. 'I just need a shower, that's all.'

Martha looked at the rumpled mess in front of her. Rose's hair was sticking out at crazy angles where it had come loose from the pins as she slept, framing a face that showed no signs of cheering up. 'Rose,' she ventured carefully, 'it's 1913. There isn't a shower, remember?' She felt awful as she watched Rose give a small nod and bite her lip – it was clear that reality was hitting home and she knew how Rose must be feeling.

'Yeah…um…okay,' the blonde sat down in front of her trunk and began rooting through it mumbling something about face cleansers.

'Rose, I can draw you a bath if you want,' Martha smiled kindly. 'I sneaked bubble bath across from the Tardis and everything – trust me you don't want to use the school soap.' She was gratified by the watery smile directed her way.

'I'm sorry Martha,' Rose took a deep breath and composed herself. 'I'm just…'

'I know,' Martha nodded. 'It's weird seeing him…without it actually being him. For a start,' she decided to lighten the mood, 'he lets people tell him what to do.'

Rose smiled a little more. 'He gets embarrassed.'

'He apologises….a lot.'

'He babbles…no wait he always did that!' Rose was smiling properly now. 'Thank you Martha,' she added after a comfortable silence.

'What for?'

'Looking after him. Here and since…well….since I left.'

Martha simply shook her head. 'Rose?'

'Hmm?'

'How…how did you get here?'

'I don't know,' the blonde shook her head. 'One minute I was at home, the next I woke up in the Tardis. I'd just put my baby brother to bed. I switched off the light and…Oh my God,' Rose's eyes widened.

'What?'

'The light. The light in the sky last night, I'd forgotten-'

'Rose don't worry,' Martha nodded solemnly. 'I checked last night – there was nothing there. They were just meteors.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course,' Martha smiled. 'Now let me get some hot water for you.'

**ooOOoo**

The Family were growing more impatient. Son of Mine, who had taken Jeremy Baines' form, had reported nothing of any interest from the school. There had been a strong energy signature yesterday – they were sure of it. So why couldn't they find the Doctor?

Time was running out; if they didn't act quickly they would wither and die before they even found the Timelord. They couldn't let that happen. They would get to him – no matter what the cost.

**ooOOoo**

Rose felt a million times better as she put the last pin in her hair, a bath and clean clothes could always be relied on to improve a situation. Martha had covertly supplied bubble bath, paracetemol and hairspray and Rose couldn't have thanked her enough. She smoothed down her dress, took a deep breath and opened her bedroom door. Her ears immediately picked up the sounds of the boys eating breakfast somewhere deeper in the building and she looked around for some clue as to where she should be going.

'Oh! Good morning Miss Tyler.'

Rose squeaked as she whirled around to see John smiling at her, looking a little surprised himself. 'Oh, Mr Smith…I mean John…good morning.'

'I trust you slept well,' he nodded as he closed the door to his quarters behind him. 'Are you feeling more rested today?'

'Yes. Thank you,' she lied, feeling rather self-conscious.

'Good. Good,' he nodded again, looking down at the mortarboard in his hands and twir ling the tassel through his fingers.

'How are you feeling today? Does your head still hurt?'

'No, no. I'm fine. Really.' He smiled brightly, before his attention was drawn back to the threads he had managed to tangle.

'So…it looks like it's going to be another lovely day.' Rose almost visibly winced as the awkwardness of the situation multiplied ten-fold. Here she was talking about the weather. Last night the conversation, albeit rather brief, had flowed quite smoothly between them– even falling into comfortable banter on a few occasions. But now in the harsh light of day without any head wounds to really distract her Rose was finding it very hard to know what to say. Thankfully she didn't have think for much longer.

'Ah Miss Tyler, Mr Smith,' it was the Headmaster. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, Sir,' Rose smiled, grateful for the interruption as John nodded a greeting.

'Mr Smith, Professor Mallory is going to teach History today on y our behalf. Matron believes it would be best for you to rest this morning as you did yourself quite an injury yesterday!' The Headmaster nodded solemnly. 'As for you Miss Tyler - I am going to ask Matron to give you a tour of the school and village when she has finished her morning duties.'

'I'd be perfectly happy to show Miss Tyler around,' John piped up suddenly, the briefest flash of confusion appearing on hi face as he wondered exactly why he had said that after the awkwardness of earlier. 'Fresh air would be the perfect cure for both of us I'm sure.'

'Well…' the Headmaster smiled, obviously pleased that one of his teachers was making such an effort for his guest. 'As long as Miss Tyler has no objections?'

Miss Tyler actually had quite a few objections. She wanted to scream and shout about the unfairness of the situation before hiding in the Tardis until the Doctor came back. But as she couldn't do that she simply nodded mutely with a forced smile.

'Well that's settled then. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on our modest establishment.' The Headmaster gave Rose a final ingratiating smile before leaving them alone once more.

'Miss Tyler? Rose?'

'Yes?'

'I hope,' John finally looked up from his mortarboard, 'that my invitation to be your guide was not too presumptuous?'

'What?' Rose was rather surprised by the words 'not too presumptuous' coming from the mouth of someone who in body, if not spirit, was actually the Doctor. 'Oh, oh, no, no, it's fine really. Thank you for your kind offer. I…apologise…if I still seem rather…erm….out of sorts,' she added, feeling she needed to make some kind of excuse for the weirdness between them. 'I'm still…' she trailed off searching for the right word.

'Adjusting?' John offered with a sympathetic smile.

'Yes,' Rose sighed. 'Something like that. I'll just get my coat.'

John smiled again and an involuntary shiver shot through his body as he watched her turn back into her room. He shrugged it off as he tried to get the images from his dreams out of his head by scrunching his eyes shut - but alas there it was again as if it was burned onto the inside of his eyelids. A vision of Rose with the sea behind her, crying as her heart shattered into a million pieces.

All because of him.

* * *

Chapter 8

"This is the bridge," John gestured around him as they walked towards the village. "Though I imagine you can see that for yourself." He grimaced as he realised he was spouting useless information again. Risking a sideways glance he noted that Rose was biting back a smile.

"Well it is a lovely bridge," she replied, her grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you for pointing it out to me." She let out a tiny peal of laughter and John felt his cheeks beginning to burn.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, each unsure of what to say to the other.

"You must think me a buffoon," John stopped walking suddenly as they reached the Village Green. He looked down at her apologetically and ran his hand over the back of his neck in a gesture of frustration so familiar to Rose that she felt another tug at her heartstrings.

"Not at all," Rose shook her head vehemently, worried that she had offended him. "My comment about the bridge was…was...made in jest…" she trailed off as she wondered whether that was an appropriate sentence for 1913. "I'm sorry if I-"

"Miss Tyler," John cut her off and stared at her imploringly, "please understand that I have taken no offence to anything you have said to me. I feel that there are others who would have been able to conduct a more informative and, perhaps useful, tour of the school and village for you. I myself am a relative newcomer and have therefore probably missed out a great many local landmarks. I must apologise for offering to be your guide and I would be happy to accompany you directly back to the school if that is your wish."

"Mr Smith," Rose looked at him kindly, "you have been wonderful." As his eyes widened she began to worry that she was breaking some kind of social code. "Now, please continue," she added hurriedly, "tell me about what you know – I'm sure that way I will learn all of the important facts." She slowly began walking ah ead of him.

For a long moment John stared dumbly after her. "Well, erm, well," he cleared his throat and hurriedly began walking next to her again. "This is the village green, the older boys are allowed to visit here on Saturday afternoons in May. That building over there," he pointed at a glass-fronted shop, "is the Pearce Family Bakery, they make the most wonderful Chelsea buns. " He smiled as Rose looked on in interest. "The shop with the red door sells books. All manner of texts on history, science, philosophy, mathematics…." He trailed off with a wistful smile. "Do you like to read, Rose?"

"I do," she replied and felt her heart swell as he looked at her proudly. "Can we have a look?" Now that he was on a subject he knew about he had relaxed again, which in turn allowed Rose to relax. She'd started reading any book she could get her hands on after the Doctor had left – textbooks, papers, journals, anything technical so she could hear his voice in her head . She didn't understand a lot of it but there were some subjects that she had taken a keen interest in. "I read about history," she noted the small smile that appeared on his face again. "But also, astronomy and d-"

"You have an interest in the stars?" John asked in surprise as he held open the red door for her to walk into the shop.

"Yes," Rose replied as she inhaled the smell of musty books – something that would forever remind her of the Doctor. "Do you?"

"No, no, not really," John replied as he idly picked up a book and flicked through the pages. He caught the look of surprise on her face and frowned, "Does that surprise you?"

"Well…a little," Rose carried on, smiling politely at the man in overalls who had just appeared behind the large wooden counter. "Hello there."

"Hello there Miss," the man beamed. "Hello there Professor Smith."

"Good morning, Richard," John smiled politely. "Miss Tyler this is Mr Richard Henderson, owner of t his wonderful bookshop. Richard, this is Miss Rose Tyler, she's going to be helping Nurse Redfern at the school."

"Pleasure to meet you Miss Tyler," Richard nodded. "It's not often we have ladies in here, please excuse the dust. If you need any assistance in finding what you're looking for I'd be happy to help."

Rose smiled as he disappeared again, some things hadn't changed in almost a century of commerce – she'd had a similar approach to customers when she'd worked in Henriks. In a flash her happy mood deflated as reality came creeping back from the shadows. She shivered and found herself involuntarily standing closer to John – the need to be near the Doctor overcoming everything else.

"Are you alright, Rose?" John asked, looking concerned again. "You seem…unwell.

"I'm fine, John," the name still sounded foreign on her tongue but she held back the grimace. "I was just wondering what you were reading." She looked down at the book in his hands a nd glanced up in surprise. "The Time Machine?"

"Yes, yes," he hurriedly shoved the book back on a shelf, his cheeks beginning to colour for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. "It's by H.G Wells. Do you know his work?"

"A little," Rose replied, still stunned at his incredibly appropriate choice.

"It's just silly nonsense, really," John replied, still looking flustered.

"You don't believe in time travel?" Rose frowned. She knew this could be very dangerous territory, but she was curious to see just how different John Smith and the Doctor actually were.

"Well it's impossible," he turned slightly away from her. "A theory for dreamers and fantasists."

"And is there something wrong with being a dreamer?" Rose couldn't shake the irrational annoyance that was flaring up inside.

"Nothing at all," he exclaimed, involuntarily taking her hand in his own . "My dearest Rose, I hope that I have not offended you. There is nothing at a ll wrong with being a dreamer – I fear that is the label that I would have to give myself. I have experienced the most fantastical dreams imaginable, in my mind I have visited different worlds and encountered so many strange creatures. Yet, my rational mind tells me that the dream world cannot be a part of real life – the stories of H.G Wells and Jules Verne are wonderful creations, but unfortunately they will only ever be stories." He noticed their clasped hands and he pulled back quickly.

Rose stared at him, eyes wide as he finished his rant. She'd been unable to speak since he'd called her 'dearest Rose' clearly without realising he had done so. But then to hear him sound so incredibly disappointed that the adventures in his dreams, no, memories, would never be anything more than imaginary creations – well that nearly broke her heart all over again. It wasn't that his heart didn't believe in time travel and mystical worlds, but instead it was because head woul dn't let him. "But you wish that it were true?"

"Again, you would think me foolish," John bowed his head, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

"Tell me about those dreams." John looked startled at her reply so she pressed on. "They sound so fantastical, so wonderful – I would very much like to hear about them. I could tell you of mine," she crossed her fingers behind her back as she knew she couldn't tell him any details of her subconscious, "and perhaps talking will settle my bad dreams." She knew that last line would have him.

"You wish to hear my dreams so that you can banish your nightmares?"

"Yes," she stared hopefully at him, knowing she was giving him an outlet for the millions of thoughts bouncing around in that head of his. Knowing the Doctor wouldn't be able to resist, hoping that John wouldn't be able to either.

"Well in that case, Rose," he opened the shop door, " please let me escort you back to the school."

"Why do we need to go back to the school?" Rose asked, eyebrows arched. She was quite enjoying being in the fresh air – being away from the school seemed to relieve the feeling of dread in her stomach.

"I feel it would be easier if I showed you." With that he proffered her his arm, feeling more confident around her than he had done previously.

Rose gingerly linked her arm through his and began wondering whether she should have started this conversation at all.

* * *

Chapter 9

"This," John placed his journal on the desk in front of Rose, "is where I record my dreams." He took a step forwards so he could see over her shoulder.

Rose lifted the book from the desk and lightly ran her fingers over the leather cover. She knew what she was going to find between the pages…she knew how bad the nightmares would be for John.

"I call it 'The Journal of Impossible Things'," John shyly rubbed the back of his neck. "A silly title really."

"Not at all," Rose smiled gently up at him before opening the cover. Her heart skipped a beat as she immediately came face to face with a sketch of the Tardis.

"That's his mysterious blue box," John tapped the page lightly, wondering why he wasn't feeling more self-conscious.

"His?" Rose asked. Again she knew exactly what he was going to say, but to keep up the pretence of ignorance she would have to ask the appropriate questions.

"Yes, yes," John leaned back as she tur ned to look at him again. "The man in my dreams. I suppose he is a manifestation of myself, I call him 'the Doctor'. His face has changed many times – sometimes he looks like I do."

She turned the page and again felt a pang of desolation as her eyes took in the two sketches on the side-by-side pages – one of a bald man wearing a grumpy expression and a leather jacket.

The tips of his ears went a little pink as he mistook Rose's facial expression for one of pity. "I know, I am far too old to be dreaming of myself as an adventurer. But this man, this Doctor he goes on such wonderful adventures – I can't help but envy him."

"Does he travel alone?" Rose knew it was a dangerous question but the pressure of walking on eggshells was beginning to get to her again.

"Sometimes," John nodded whilst purposely avoiding her eyes. "Sometimes he has, well, companions."

"Oh?"

"Yes. All sorts of different people," John thought it safer to leave it at that. He didn't want to tell her about Martha featuring quite heavily in his dreams recently – she may get the wrong idea. But more importantly he didn't want to tell her about the dream he'd had last night, the dream where Rose herself (although from the future) had travelled on adventures with him. The dream where he had seen Rose crying on a beach. The dream that had woken him, heart pounding, in the early hours of the morning, hot, salty tears burning trails down his cheeks.

"I suppose he gets lonely," Rose said quietly as she turned the page and saw an image that was already burned into her memory - the Doctor standing on a beach, long coat flapping in the breeze. Her heart twisted as she felt as if she was standing in Norway again, losing everything. As her fingers ran over his pencil outline she had to desperately blink back tears.

"Rose?" John dropped to his knees in front of her and searched her face. "Rose, have I upset you?"

"No," Rose hurriedl y scrubbed her eyes. "No, no, I'm sorry – I was just…" She trailed off as she saw the concern written in John's eyes. He looked so like the Doctor in that moment that she had to stop herself from reaching over and clinging on to him. "You look so sad here," she eventually whispered, tracing her finger over the drawing.

John frowned as her attention returned to the page in front of her. "I have seen this place may times. I call it 'Bad Wolf Bay'." The creases in his forehead deepened as Rose shivered. "Rose are you absolutely sure that you are well?" He gazed at her pale face in concern, he could see that she was biting her lip and that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"You must forgive me," Rose gave him a watery smile, "your drawings have made quite the impression on me."

"Then let us put them away," John hurriedly picked up his journal and placed it next to the fob watch on the mantelpiece. "I'll see if Martha can bring some tea."

Before Rose could protest John had opened the door of his study and was looking around for Martha.

"Even as a human you think tea solves everything," Rose whispered sadly as she absentmindedly pulled at a thread on her sleeve. If she wasn't careful she was going to have a full breakdown in front of John – a breakdown that no amount of tea would be able to stem.

**ooOOoo**

Timothy stood at the back of the line as classmates all around him took their positions for shooting practice. He'd been watching Jeremy Baines all morning; the angry outburst of the night before was not out of character for the prefect, yet there was something strange about the older boy. Baines was staring around the group with wild eyes and Timothy felt another involuntary shiver pass down his spine.

"Latimer!" Professor Mallory yelled at him. "Do you show this much unwilling when Professor Smith is supervising?"

Timothy dropped his eyes apologetically. "Sorry, Sir."

"Come here, boy," Mallory gestured wildly, before addressing the whole group. "The Headmaster will be observing today which means you all need to be shooting at your best. You boys will be the first line of defence if this country needs you – you should be proud."

Timothy was clever enough to hold back his thoughts on the matter, he simply nodded mutely as Mallory turned away. Timothy liked Professor Mallory – he was a good teacher, albeit a little boring – but he couldn't share the same view on fighting. Everyone at the school knew that the professor had been some kind of hero, he had battle scars on his face and a limp to prove it, and Timothy understood the desire to show allegiance to a cause you believed it…he just didn't understand the need to use violence.

"Come on then, Latimer!" Baines taunted the younger boy, his face distorting into a sneer. "Why don't you show us all how it's done?"

Timothy walked forward, keeping his eyes locked with Baines'. As he appr oached the prefect inhaled deeply and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Timothy gulped as the rifle was dropped into his hands – he had a sudden feeling that things were about to get much worse.

**ooOOoo**

Rose opened the door to her quarters and was relieved to see Martha on the other side.

"Are you alright?" Martha asked as she dropped ungraciously into a chair. She was pleased to have a few moments respite from the 'maid' act.

"Not entirely," Rose sank onto her bed with a sigh. "He thinks I'm mad," she indicated to the wall that was now separating her from John. "And you know what? I think he might be right. And the matron definitely agrees. She was in here for over a hour questioning me about my mental state – I don't think she likes me."

"She's like that with everyone," Martha nodded.

"Not everyone," Rose was still looking at the wall.

"Ah…so you noticed that then?" Martha looked at the floor sheepishly. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't mention Joa n before this all started. You know I d-"

"Martha, it's okay," Roses voice was soft but the sadness behind the words was enough to stop Martha's speech. "There's not a chance that the Doctor would have even considered the possibility that he'd go and fall in love. He doesn't do domestic."

"Tell me about it," Martha shook her head. "You should see him trying to relate to my family."

Rose smiled despite her sombre mood. "We once had a conversation about mortgages – think it nearly killed him."

Martha smiled before turning serious and leaning forwards. "But, Rose, you have to remember that he's not the Doctor. I mean, he looks like him, and occasionally acts a little bit like him, but…it's not him. "

"I just never though that I'd have to see him change again. I mean I know this is a different situation but…this is worse than last time," she rubbed her temples as she felt the first tinges of her headache returning.

"Last time?"

"Yeah, when he changed," Rose pulled the box of paracetemol from under her pillow.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Martha shook her head in confusion.

Rose swallowed a tablet and prepared her explanation."I don't know how much he's told you about the science behind Time Lords – knowing him, probably nothing," she smiled wryly. "He seems to think surprising you with random acts of biology is better than preparing you in advance." She took a deep breath before continuing, "When I met him, he didn't look like that," she was back to pointing at the wall, "he was all bald and brooding and sarcastic. Then something happened…something bad…and he was dying," Rose's throat constricted a little at the memory and she let out a self-deprecating laugh. "No wonder everyone thinks I'm mad…I keep bursting into tears!"

Martha reached over and squeezed her hand sympathetically.

"Anyway," Rose continued, "Time Lords have this trick where they can change their body to stay alive. Same brain, same memories but completely different on the outside. Personality changes a bit too. He was suddenly this manic, floppy-haired, bouncing thing who was concerned about the fact he wasn't ginger." Rose grinned a little at the memory. "He hadn't completely changed, I mean the sarcasm was still there and he still thought he was always the cleverest person in the room. But it took me a while to realise that underneath the big hair and the cheeky smile….same Doctor. But now…"

"He's still there, Rose," Martha was having trouble piecing Roses story together but she wasn't about to question it. "We just have to stick it out a little but longer and then he can go back to being the cleverest one in the room and tell us what's going on."

"If I'm here that long."

Martha couldn't reply to that. The two women looked at each other grimly and silently hoped that this would all be over soon.

**ooOOoo**

A few miles away The Family were hoping for the same thing.

Jenny, Martha's friend and fellow maid, was hoping to make it into the village by taking a shortcut through some fields.

Seconds later Jenny would never hope for anything again.

* * *

Chapter 10

Timothy knocked on Professor Smith's door and waited patiently. His ears pricked up as he heard faint conversation coming from the room next door – it sounded as if it was the friendly maid, Martha, and the lady who'd arrived the day before – Miss Tyler. He had always been told never to eavesdrop but the phrase 'Time Lord' caused his eyes to widen and he almost dropped the books he was holding.

He edged a little closer to Miss Tyler's door, straining to hear what was being said. The door to Professor Smith's study suddenly opened and Timothy jumped in surprise.

"Are you alright, Latimer?" John asked as the boy stared, slack jawed at him.

"Y-y-yes," came the stammered reply. "I just wanted to return these books to you." He nodded at the texts in his arms and John stepped out of the way to let the boy pass.

"Just put them on my desk," John instructed as he headed to his bookshelves and pulled out a large, leather-bound tome. "I thought this one would be suitable," he passed the book to Timothy who took it with a nod. "I had found another one that I thought you might be interested in, but I seem to have misplaced it." He tugged on his earlobe in thought. "I'll just see if I can find it."

As his professor shuffled around, picking up piles of paper and books Timothy found himself peering round the room. 'Time Lord' was still ringing in his ears and the volume seemed to increase when his eyes settled on a fob watch that was resting above the fire. He glanced quickly at the professor and found that the man was crouching on the floor inspecting a stack of books, without hesitation Timothy picked up the watch, unintelligible whispers meeting his ears. He gingerly opened the timepiece and the voices in his head grew to a cacophony – warnings being yelled at him at ear-splitting volumes. A golden glow, the same glow that had surrounded Professor Smith the day before, enveloped the watch. As Timothy stared at the glow his mind was filled with images of the Professor, dressed differently, running, always running. Screams of anguish, sometimes from the Professor, sometimes from unseen forces, seemed to course through Timothy's body as he fought to close the watch.

"Keep me hidden," the pleasing tone came from within the watch. "Not yet, Timothy Latimer. Not yet."

Timothy's eyes grew wider at the mention of his name, he snapped the watch shut, but not before he saw a final image of Professor Smith, or the Doctor, as the watch had named him, standing alone in a desolate landscape, destruction all around him. Guilty.

"Here it is," John Smith's cheerful proclamation startled Timothy back into reality and he stuffed the watch into his trouser pocket without hesitation.

"Thank you, Sir," Timothy bobbed his head quickly and hurried from the room.

John frowned as Timothy shot him a final look of alarm as he close the door behind him.

"Strange young man," he muttered to himself as he returned to his desk, rubbing his temples lightly.

He could feel a headache coming on.

**ooOOoo**

Jeremy Baines and Jenny were standing together on the edge of the woods when thy both felt a disturbance in the atmosphere. They inhaled deeply and looked at each other in satisfaction.

"Time Lord," they whispered together, their faces contorting into twisted smirks.

"Father of Mine," Jeremy called telepathically back to the ship. "He is at the school. I am sure of it."

"Go back there and find him," Father of mine instructed. "I will take human form and join you there."

"As you wish, Father," Jeremy sneered. "As you wish."

**ooOOoo**

Martha closed Rose's door behind her and stepped right into the path of Timothy Latimer who had just come from John's study. She tottered briefly before managing to right herself and grabbing Timothy's sleeve.

"Excuse me?" she stared crossly at the boy. "Have you ever heard of an apo logy?"

Timothy stared at her in horror as she let go of his arm. When her fingers had curled around his wrist he'd seen her in his mind; seen her with the Doctor. "I'm s-s-s-sorry," he stuttered out, turning on his heel and racing down the stairs.

"Well that was weird," Martha shook her head and headed towards the kitchen. She hoped Jenny would be there, she was in the mood for some light-hearted banter.

**ooOOoo**

Rose lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was desperately trying to work out how she had managed to suddenly find herself in the Tardis. All she could remember from the previous day was that she'd been tucking Tony into her bed because her parents had gone out for the evening (again).

She felt a stab of sadness as she thought of Jackie and Pete and knew that they would be sick with worry. Pete would probably be in his office at Torchwood using any resource he could to find her.

As for her mother… Rose closed her eyes at the thought. Aft er they'd returned from Norway Rose had pushed everyone, including her Mum, away. Jackie had understood what her daughter was going through, she'd already gone through losing Pete once after all, but she hadn't been able to stand there and watch Rose become more and more withdrawn. This had, inevitably, caused ructions between the two right up until Tony was born.

After Tony's birth Jackie had been so preoccupied with being a baby's mother again that she had had to take a step back from trying to sort Rose out. By giving her this space Rose was able to slowly let herself feel again and the Tyler household was becoming a much happier place to be as everyone came to terms with their new situation.

Rose gasped as she saw golden swirls begin to envelope the fingers of her left hand as whispered voices skittered past her ears. The light disappeared as quickly as it had arrived and her heart thudded in her chest.

She'd seen this light before; it was the same ligh t that skipped through her mind when she tried to recall what had happened on the Gamestation; the same light that had engulfed the Doctor when he'd regenereated.

It had something to do with the Tardis.

It was a warning.

* * *

Chapter 11

Rose tossed the cricket ball up in the air, watching the sun glittering off the smooth surface as it revolved above her head before quickly plummeting back to the safety of her hand.

Up. Down. Repeat.

She'd been sitting in the Matron's 'ward' for almost three hours, but as of yet she hadn't had a single visitor. Joan was away from the school for the morning and Rose had been procured from her room to act as stand-by nurse.

Up.

Martha had promised to check in at regular intervals but, by catching snippets of the faint whispers of conversation that filtered up the stairs, Rose had determined that Martha had been sent out on errands.

Down.

It saddened Rose that she hadn't really had the opportunity to get to know Martha yet – she was, after all, the only one who could understand what this whole situation felt like.

Up.

She glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye and this time the ball unceremoniously hit the polished wood floor with a deafening crack before rolling towards the door.

"A keen cricketer, Miss Tyler?" John Smith's lips were curved into a smile as he gently mocked the flustered Rose. He leaned down to pick up the ball and rested against the doorframe.

"Oh…em…ah," she stammered as she jumped to her feet and smoothed down her skirt. "Sorry." She could feel the tips of her ears reddening as John walked towards her.

"Not many patients to see to this morning then?" John was still smiling as he placed the cricket ball carefully on the desk Rose had been sitting at before his arrival.

"None," Rose nodded as she felt the heat beginning to leave her cheeks. "It seems the boys are in perfect health."

"Quite, quite," replied John as he ran his hand over the crimson welt on his forehead. "Can't quite say the same about the staff." He smiled ruefully at her. "I trust you are feeling better this morning?"

"Yes," Rose looked down at her feet. "I'm very sorry about yesterday."

"Please don't apologise," John reached out and gently touched her arm. For a split second he wondered if he was being too forward but as Rose didn't pull away he allowed his fingers to curl lightly around her wrist.

A storm of emotions was coursing through Rose's veins as she looked at the man in front of her. This wasn't the Doctor, this was John Smith, but she didn't move away from him for fear of missing out on any link to the Doctor. The gold light that had engulfed her hand yesterday had scared her – she knew her time here was coming to an end.

"Miss Tyler," John coughed, a little embarrassed, "Rose, I was wondering if you would like…" he trailed off and tugged at his earlobe. "Well, I was wondering if you would do me the honour of-"

"Oh, John, erm, Professor Smith," Joan's voice cut through the moment and John guiltily released his grasp on Rose. "I'm sorry, I er…"

Rose looked over at the M atron and caught the almost imperceptible flicker of hurt that flashed in her eyes. Feeling decidedly embarrassed she bobbed her head and hurried out of the room.

"Miss Tyler! Rose…" John trailed off as he noticed Joan's awkwardness. "Joan, I mean, Nurse Redfern I…" words failed him again. Taking a cue from Rose's earlier departure he garbled an apology and left the ward.

As he reached the stairs he turned and contemplated going back to apologise properly to Joan. However, he shrugged this idea off as he realised that he had no idea what exactly it was he would apologise for.

"Fantastic," he mumbled as he trudged down the stairs, feeling altogether as if it was just going to be one of those days.

**ooOOoo**

"Jenny!" Martha exclaimed as her friend wandered into the kitchen at lunchtime. "Where have you been? Everyone's been frantic."

Martha frowned as Jenny appeared not to hear her, instead inhaling deeply as she looked around the room with beady eyes.

"Jenny?" Martha's frown deepened as the other maid's stare finally fixed on her, a smirk beginning to twist the corner of her usually smiling lips.

"I've been…" Jenny trailed off as she drew in another great breath through her nose. "I've been busy."

Alarm bells rang somewhere in Martha's subconscious and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled in trepidation. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, yet there was only one that made her blood run cold - Jenny was no longer just Jenny.

Very good Martha Jones, very good indeed. Martha could have sworn that she heard the Doctor's voice in her head.

Jenny sniffed again as her stare hardened.

"Do you have a cold, Jenny?" Martha stammered eventually, hoping that her silence hadn't raised suspicion.

"Yes," Jenny tilted her head to one side, cold lifeless eyes piercing Martha. "Yes, a cold. That's it."

Thankfully Martha was saved from any more conversation as Cook yelled that eve ryone was needed for lunch service. She hastily grabbed a platter of food and headed for the dining room, hoping more than anything else that Rose would be there to hear the thought that had caused a cold grip to clench around her heart.

The Family must be here.

* * *

Chapter 12

Rose was not at lunch. She had in fact found herself heading towards the Tardis.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she mumbled to herself as she strode towards the stone wall at the perimeter of the school's grounds. She had been berating herself since scarpering from John and Joan – what had she been thinking? This man was not the Doctor. For a start if he was the Doctor he wouldn't start questions with phrases like 'would you do me the honour?'

"Rose!"

The call from behind her startled Rose; instinctively she whirled around immediately, her brain was still wired to respond to the Doctor's call – even if his voice didn't sound quite right. She groaned as she realised there was no way she was going to make it to the sanctuary of the Tardis now that she had stopped.

"Rose," John panted, out of breath as he reached her. "Thank you for waiting." Rose tried not to laugh as he winced slightly, clutching his side as he breathed heavily; cl early weeks of not being chased by megalomaniac aliens took had begun to take its toll on the Doctor's fitness levels.

"Are you alright?" Rose asked, despite her amusement she was being careful to keep as considerable a distance as possible between them.

"Rose, I wanted to apologise for my behaviour just now," John looked remorsefully at the woman in front of him. "It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

Rose bit her lip as she decided how to respond. "I'm not, it's not that-" she began haltingly as she searched for the right words. She needed to discourage him from developing any great attachment, she realised now how selfishly she had been acting – John Smith wasn't the Doctor but he was a human being with feelings, and emotions, and a heart that could be damaged easily. "I am here, John, because I lost someone very close to me, or perhaps he lost me." A short laugh, tinged with bitterness, escaped her lips. "My whole world fell apart i n an instant."

"Dearest Rose, I am truly sorry," John replied after a long moment.

"Still…" Rose trailed off and looked around at the gloriously beautiful landscape, "life goes on."

"And isn't it fantastic?" John smiled as he watched the sun glinting through the trees.

Rose laughed softly at his choice of phrase and shook her head.

"Are you laughing at me?" John tried valiantly to look affronted.

"No," she smiled. "Well, yes."

"Why?"

"Because you remind me of my…friend." For some reason this small confession seemed to lift a weight from Rose's mind. By acknowledging the fact that this man was like the Doctor but not actually him out loud was a cathartic experience. Although, she was slowly becoming convinced that she was losing her mind – her moods had been shifting so dramatically over the last few days; switching quickly between wanting to be close to John and wanting to keep him firmly at arm's length.

"The frien d who…?" John, trailed off again, obviously unsure how to deal with this revelation.

"Yes," Rose affirmed. "You're alike in a lot of ways." Better not tell him the extent of their similarities, she thought as he looked at her inquisitively.

"How so?"

"Well," Rose scrunched up her face as she thought of a suitable thing to say, "you both have brown hair."

They both burst out laughing and John ran his hand through his aforementioned hair.

"We could be twins," John chuckled heartily.

Rose had to hold back an eye roll and sarcastic comment.

"Rose?" John spoke again after a comfortable silence had settled. "May I share with you what it was that I wanted to ask you earlier?"

Rose thought carefully for a moment before nodding. Clearly she was comfortable with John now, it didn't matter what his request was; she would deal with it rationally. She would!

"I had wanted to ask you if you would accompany me to the dance at the vill age hall?"

Rose tried to ignore the knot in her stomach that formed the instant she looked into his incredibly earnest eyes. Just be rational – act slightly aloof. "Oh, right?"

"Yes," John took her response as a sign to continue. "I'm sure it would be nothing compared to the parties you have undoubtedly, well possibly, maybe even probably seen in London. Sorry, these sentences get away from me whenever I try and speak to you."

Rose blushed as John finally worked up the courage to hold her gaze despite the fact she could see the tips of his ears beginning to colour.

"I genuinely would be honouredif you would consider accepting my invitation," he concluded with a smile. "Although," he added hurriedly, "I would completely understand if you felt you should decline."

"John," Rose smiled as she gave up on rational thinking again, "I would very much like to go to the dance with you."

He beamed at her in response. "Well, Miss Tyler, would you do me the further honour of allowing me to escort you back to the school?"

Rose laughed as she gently rested her hand on the proffered crook of his arm, desperately trying to ignore the gnawing unease in the back of her mind.

Little did she know she had just signed a death sentence.

* * *

**Please Review**


	3. Part Three

Chapter 13

"Where have you been?" Martha hissed accusingly as Rose finally poked her head around the door to the servants' quarters. "I've been looking everywhere for you for hours."

"I'm sorry," Rose whispered, cautiously closing the door behind her. It would not do for her to be caught 'visiting' Martha. "I looked for you as soon as I got back but the other girl who works with you, Jenny, told me you'd been sent to town on an errand."

"You spoke to her?" Martha jumped from her bed and hurriedly stepped towards Rose. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Rose arched her eyebrows in confusion. "I asked where you were and she wanted to know why."

"What did you say?"

Martha looked so desperate that Rose's pulse began to quicken in worry. "Martha, are you alright? I just told her that I needed you to help me get ready for tonight."

"Tonight?" Martha shook her head, the fear never leaving her features. "What's tonight?"

"Well..," Rose trailed off, a blush rising to her cheeks unbidden. "John asked me to the dance. We're going to the v-"

"You're going on a date with the Doctor?" Martha had to control the screech of her voice as she cut Rose off. "Do you realise we are in the middle of a life and death situation here? They're here and could kill him at any moment and all you two can do is fall all over each other!"

"What do you mean 'they're here'?" Rose felt as though ice was trickling down her spine. "Martha, tell me!"

"I mean," Martha dropped her voice to a whisper and gripped Rose's wrists urgently, "The Family are here. They know the Doctor is hiding. It's only a matter of time before they work out who he is and then –"

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to remain calm. You've been in situations like this before – the Doctor always manages to outthink the threat. She tried to ignore the key fact that the Doctor wasn't currently going to be any help wh atsoever – they needed to focus on solving this themselves. "How do you know they've found him?"

"I don't know how," Martha shook her head and tried to keep her voice steady, "but Jenny isn't Jenny anymore. She's something else – she's one of them. If she's here in the school then we can't trust anyone. I think we need to get him to the Tardis, wake him up and run somewhere else. We can't do this without him."

Rose nodded in agreement and closed her eyes in resignation. Bringing the Doctor out of hiding whilst The Family were in the vicinity was the last thing that she had wanted to do. "What do I need to do?"

"I'll take the fob watch from the mantelpiece in his room – everything the Doctor is is inside that watch. Then we need to get him out to the Tardis; suggest a detour as he walks you to the dance, then get him as close to the hiding place as possible."

Rose nodded as she listened to Martha's plan. Out of the corner of her eye she just caug ht the thin, smoky trail of gold that circled her left hand before disappearing.

"Rose?" Martha breathed as she saw the light vanish. "What was that?"

As Rose opened her mouth to answer, the door creaked open to reveal 'Jenny', a manic look glinting in her eyes as she inhaled deeply. Neither companion dared to breathe as they watched 'Jenny's' composure falter ever so slightly in confusion.

"Miss Tyler," 'Jenny' practically spat the name, "what a surprise to find you in the servants' quarters?"

Rose prayed that her voice would come out steady. "I was just," she yawned haughtily, hoping the action would cover the hammering of her heart, "looking for Martha here. I need her assistance in readying myself for tonight's dance. My rooms are so terribly dull to sit and wait around in so I decided to find her myself."

'Jenny' locked eyes with the blonde girl in front of her, lids moving together as she looked for a hint of a clue. After a long moment 'J enny' was satisfied that this woman was far too stupid to know anything about the Time Lord.

"Shall we go then, Martha?" Rose asked as pointedly as possible. "My hair will take hours and I shall be late at this rate."

"Of course Madam," Martha bobbed her head and began to follow her friend out of the room. "I'll see you later, Jenny."

'Jenny's' mouth was set in a grim line as the door clicked shut. The blonde woman knew nothing, but may prove useful in some way. The maid, Martha, was a different story – she knew something about the Time Lord. His presence had been in that room, 'Jenny' had felt it before she'd opened the door.

"Brother of Mine," she called to the empty room, "the maid knows something about the Time Lord."

"Stay close to her," Jeremy Baines' voice floated eerily through the walls, "but do not reveal your true identity yet, Sister of Mine; we still do not know where the Time Lord is."

"Fear not. I shall wait. But, there will be death tonight."

**ooOOoo**

John Smith leant against the window frame and allowed to cool pane to sooth his aching brow. He smiled slightly as he watched the orange sunset blaze across the sky, somehow comforting his soul. He'd been feeling particularly off-kilter since arriving back at the school from his walk with Rose but was determined to relax before the dance.

He tiredly ran his hand over the back of his neck before getting back to work on his bow tie. For some reason his mind could allow him to speak four languages but could not reconcile with how to fasten a bow-tie. He walked over to the mirror above the fireplace to give himself the best chance of looking smart. As he reached the mantle he suddenly felt as if something terribly important was missing. He gently ran his hands over the length of the marble but could not fathom where the feeling had come from.

A soft knock at the door startled him from his thoughts. "Come in"

Martha curtseyed as she entered the room. "Do you need anything Professor?"

John smiled as the lovely maid walked towards him. "Do you have any knowledge of how to tie one of theses?" He pointed at his bow-tie with an awkward grin.

Martha set to work fastening the tie, all the while trying to catch a glimpse of the fob watch. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears as she realised that it was no longer on the fireplace.

"Is something the matter, Martha?" John asked in concern as he watched her eyes dart around the room with an unmistakeable glimmer of terror.

"Where is it?" Martha gasped out before she could stop herself. "Where is the watch?"

"Watch?" John's forehead crumpled in thought. "Martha, I –"

"The watch from the fireplace!" Martha practically shrieked. She began to rush around the room, looking under books, peering onto shelves and leaving a whirlwind trail of paper around her.

"Martha, stop this at once!" John's angry voice cut through the chaos and Martha found herself shrinking under an authoritative glare that she hadn't see in weeks. "You are behaving in a manner that is completely unacceptable for someone of your station."

The words stung Martha as if she'd been slapped. "Someone of my station?"

Martha's voice was barely louder than a whisper but John could still hear the hurt, no the betrayal, in her voice.

"Do you have any idea what we've been going through?" Martha continued. "Do you know what it's like to be completely left behind, to keep a secret so terrible that it haunts your dreams?"

"Martha, perhaps you are coming down with something," John tried softly after a second of silence. "I should call for Matron or-"

"A Doctor?" Martha laughed derisively at the opportunity she'd been given to complete the irony of the situation. "Yeah, I do need a Doctor. I need you."

"Martha, I-"

Martha cut him off by throwing his journal towards him. "That Doctor, the on e in those pages, the one in your dreams. I need him. The world needs him right now, so you need to tell me where that watch is."

John's anger began to bubble again. How dare this woman speak to him in such a manner? "You have been looking through my journal? How else could you know of my dreams? I shall have you dismissed for this."

"Good!" Martha shrieked and John was taken aback. "You think I want to be a maid? To scrub floors until my knuckles are raw? To see all my years of medical training go to waste? To watch someone I care about disappear in front of me?"

"Your years of medical training?" John repeated in disbelief. "Martha, has your mind been poisoned in some way? You are a servant!"

"I am a doctor!" She yelled a couple of inches from his face, feeling a flicker of guilt as the man in front of her flinched. She added softly, "and so are you."

Martha took John's silence as an opportunity to continue. "John Smith is not real, he was in y our head. But the Doctor, oh the Doctor, is as real as I am, as this room. The man in your dreams is in the nightmares of thousands and the prayers of millions across time and space. He's saved planets on more occasions than I could ever even count; he risks his life to protect the rest of us, throughout history and throughout the future. He is a wonderful man who has lost everyone he has ever cared about – his race, his family, his friends and-" Martha broke off as she very quickly glanced at the wall the room shared with Rose's quarters. "But he never gives up."

Silence seemed to stretch around them as Martha's words echoed in John's mind. She could see the beginnings of trust forming in his eyes and she knew that she was somehow getting through. But suddenly John jumped backwards and the link was gone.

"Martha, I am respectfully asking you to leave this room and never set foot in here again. I shall speak to the Headmaster in the morning and I would advise y ou to begin collecting any belongings you may have." John's tone was one of finality.

A hesitant knock on the door stopped Martha before she could continue. Rose appeared from behind the wood, the expression on her face told Martha that she had heard everything.

"Well thank you for your help, Professor," Martha nodded grimly, "I'll be off." She turned on her heel and stalked towards Rose. "Play along and get him to the Tardis," she hissed as quietly as she could. "We're getting the Doctor back tonight."

* * *

Chapter 14

Rose concentrated on the way her breath swirled in icy patterns in the darkness as she walked next to John in the direction of the village hall. The silence between them had stretched well beyond a comfortable absence of words between friends as they both avoided discussing Martha's earlier outburst at the school.

"Rose," John broke the silence as the flickering lights of their destination came into view, "I'm sorry you had to witness that scene with Martha in my study. She's usually such a reasonable and helpful girl."

Rose nodded silently in response, hoping the tiny smile she added would be enough to end this train of conversation. She didn't want to talk about Martha, for the sole reason that it reminded her of what she was going to have to do later that evening - bring the Doctor back. But by doing that she was going to have to destroy the man standing next to her, the one who looked at her with an honesty and openness that the Doctor h ad never allowed himself to show. Rose wasn't stupid; she understood the implications of her plan and knew that John and the Doctor could not coexist.

As they reached the bridge John suddenly stopped and turned to face his companion. "We don't have to go to the dance, if you don't want to."

Rose arched her eyebrows in surprise.

"You seem a little...hesitant," John looked troubled. "Please don't feel that you have to attend on account of my feelings. I'm aware that I have probably seemed a little...odd...since our first meeting."

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but was silenced as John tentatively raised his left hand to brush a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. Her heart began hammering in her chest and an awful sinking sensation seeped into her bones as she realised that he was going through the motions that she wanted him to go through; the distinct problem being that, despite appearances, it wasn't the right 'him.' However, the thrum of her b roken heart began to overpower logical thought and she leaned her head slightly into his touch with the whisper of a sigh.

"But I find I don't seem able to keep my head when you're around," John continued, his words strengthening as he gained in courage. "I can't explain why I feel as though there is something dreadfully important that I must tell you; something I've forgotten. And I cannot explain why, despite the relative briefness of our acquaintance, you have taken up residence here," he raised his right hand to his temple, before resting it gently on his chest, "and here."

Rose felt every particle of air leave her body as her chest constricted, squeezing her heart in a manner that was unexplainably terrifying and incredible at the same time. Her head was screaming 'danger' at her; she knew the logical thing to do would be to gently dissuade John from expressing any further attachment. But her heart, oh that was an entirely different matter.

John's eyes searched her face for a reaction and very slowly she raised her hand to cover John's finger splayed over his heart. His lips curved upwards, almost imperceptibly, and he leaned down, slowly closing the distance between them as he curled their fingers together.

Rose's anticipation was shattered by the loud, female scream that ruptured the stillness of the evening.

John leapt back immediately, his eyes widening at the sound as he whipped his head towards the source - the village hall. "What's happening?"

Rose closed her eyes briefly, a dead weight settling within her. "The beginning of the end."

Chapter 15

* * *

"Rose, I must ask you to return to the school at once," John's eyes glinted with fear for her wellbeing.

"John, I can help," Rose replied, looking towards the village hall, which had fallen suspiciously silent.

"Rose, please," he took her hands in both of his. "It is not safe for you here. I wish that I could escort you, but I fear I must attend to those in the village."

"No!" Rose pulled her fingers from his grasp and began striding towards the flickering lights of the assembly rooms. Her blood felt as though it was boiling in her veins, as though she was only one step away from combusting entirely. She had to tell him the truth; they could only get out of this situation with the doctor's help.

_It is too soon, child. He cannot know yet. _The words enveloped Rose's mind in warmth, comfort delicately surrounding the warning they contained; she knew it could only be the Tardis.

"Rose!" John appeared at her side and Rose was immediately tugged away from the safe feeling that had briefly enveloped her. "It is too dangerous for you."

Rose stopped and stared at the man beside her; an image of the last time the doctor had tried to send her away barrelled into her thoughts with no regard for the precariousness of the grip she had on her emotions. She remembered the way her heart had plummeted into her chest, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal that had accompanied him draping the transporter chain around her neck. The Doctor had never looked more determined, or grim faced, in all the time that she had known him; but John was giving him a run for his money.

"I cannot let you come with me," John looked as though he was desperately fighting an internal battle and Rose could have sworn that his eyes took on a golden tinge as he became more determined. "You must go back to the school."

Rose didn't respond verbally. Instead she hitched up her dress slightly and began runn ing towards the village, carefully ignoring the frustrated, hushed called of John as he followed her. She didn't come to a halt until she reached her intended destination and a few moments later she was joined by John.

"You need to stay out here," Rose hissed at her companion. "The er..._things_...in there are dangerous. They're looking for you, even though you won't understand why."

"What _are _you talking about?" John's concern had melted away and a simmering anger had taken its place. "Rose, you are talking nonsense."

"Still thinks he knows everything," Rose muttered to herself as she crept towards the front door of the hall. Her ears strained to hear anything inside the hall, but there was only a deathly silence.

Rose shrieked involuntarily as a heavy hand landed on her shoulder,squeezing painfully. Her sound of surprise was abruptly muffled as a hand came up to cover her mouth.

"Rose!" John yelled in horror as he watched Jer emy Baines restrain Rose. He leapt forwards to help, but immediately came to a halt when Jeremy brought a strange looking gun up and pressed it firmly against Rose's temple; her eyes widened in discomfort as Jeremy jabbed the barrel roughly against her head.

"Let her go." John's voice was dangerously calm and for a split second Rose was convinced the Doctor had returned, but looking at the man in front of her she could see his hands trembling even though his eyes never left hers for a second. The fear in John's eyes terrified Rose more than the gun Jeremy was threatening her with.

"I don't think I will, _Time Lord,_" Jeremy spat and Rose had to fight desperately not to gasp at his words. _They know. The family know._

"What?" John looked confused.

Jeremy laughed mirthlessly. "Always so cunning."

"Baines, let go of her at once," John took a tentative step towards the younger man. "You will be punished for this."

Jeremy laughe d once more, before his face turned suddenly serious. "Oh I won't be the one being punished, Time Lord. That honour is reserved especially for you." At that Jeremy began to tug Rose into the village hall. She didn't scream, she didn't even shoot pleading eyes towards the man in front of her; the man who was now looking down the barrel of a gun held by Jenny (_but she's usually so pleasant!) _. Instead, Rose Tyler gave the barest of nods as she caught sight of the one person she had left to rely on.

Martha Jones was waiting in the shadows.

And she was ready for a fight.

**ooOOoo**

Inside the village hall The Family had corralled the guests into one corner of the room. Jeremy, once he was sure Rose wasn't going to scream again, had removed his hand from her mouth and loosened his grip enough so that she could hold her head high as she tried to adopt as haughty an air as possible.

Rose wrenched herself from Jeremy's grasp once they had reached the mid dle of the dance floor and stared at him unwaveringly as he pointed the gun at her once more. She looked around and met the terrified faces of people she had come to know over her time at the school. Joan looked petrified for her and Rose, despite the danger, felt uncharitable once more.

"Oh, Miss Tyler," Jeremy shook his head as though reprimanding a toddler, "you need to learn to pick your friends more carefully. _Professor Smith _is going to get you killed if you're not a little more careful."

"Thank you for your concern," Rose responded sweetly after a brief silence, "but I'd be a little more worried about your own safety."

Jeremy cocked his head to the side and leered at the girl standing so defiantly in front of him. "What do you know?"

Jenny replied before Rose had the opportunity to open her mouth. "She's too stupid to be involved, Son of Mine."

"Pot. Kettle. Black," Rose sighed, trying to keep the slight tremor out of her voice . She had faced Cybermen, Werewolves, the Emperor of the Daleks; she wasn't going to show fear now. She pushed away the persistent thought that the Doctor had always been there in the past and glared at Jeremy.

Throughout this exchange John had remained silent, hands above his head, staring open mouthed at this impossible young woman. "Rose," he hissed, "what are you doing?"

"Saving your life," Rose responded with a quick glance towards the door as it burst open with a loud bang.

Before anyone had time to respond Martha had pointed the sonic screwdriver at Jenny's hand causing her to drop the gun with a howl of pain. She threw the screwdriver to Rose who caught it perfectly and aimed it at a shocked Jeremy.

Martha swiftly scooped up Jenny's loose gun and pointed it at the 'maid'. "Pull that trigger," she hissed at Jeremy, who's finger was twitching in anticipation of shooting Rose, "and that's the end of Mummy-dearest over here."

Jeremy, with a grunt of frustration, lowered the gun and Rose snatched it from his grasp.

John was staring at this scene in horror, which deepened even further when Rose pointed the gun at him, ensuring to keep the screwdriver aimed at Jeremy.

"Move!" she yelled at John, who continued to stare dumbly at the woman he had almost declared his feelings for not twenty minutes earlier. "Now! Wait outside."

Somehow John forced his feet to shuffle towards the door, his eyes never leaving Rose's face for a second. She, breaking the gaze at last, turned back to the terrified villagers. "Everybody out. Stay together, but get as far away from here as you can."

They didn't hesitate. With minimal gasps of fear and surprise they began hurrying towards the door. Jeremy and Jenny's faces we're growing darker and darker with each passing second and Martha knew that she and Rose had to get John to the Tardis immediately.

"Rose," Martha called her friend, voice steady, "it's time ."

Rose nodded slowly, returning the aim of the gun to rest on Jeremy. "If you follow us, I will not hesitate to shoot you."

"But the Time Lord doesn't use violence," Jeremy almost smiled, "and neither do his companions."

"People change," Rose stated and Martha recognised the edge of steel from the Doctor's voice. Rose Tyler had been broken, but she had made herself stronger.

The calmness of Rose's retort was enough to unnerve Jeremy and he couldn't hide the almost imperceptible swallow of fear at the darkness in her eyes.

Martha, still aiming the gun at Jeremy, took Rose's wrist and guided both of them backwards and out of the village hall.

When they were outside Martha continued to point the gun i the direction of the Family, just in case they appeared. Rose simply turned to John, who was staring at her in fear, and almost awe, and grabbed his hand before he could protest.

His gaze moved slowly from their joined hands to her eyes and she simply nodded her head.

"Run."

* * *

Chapter 16

For almost half a mile John showed no resistance to Rose's tugging him along after her; perhaps it was because he could feel the desperation that seemed to emanate from her very being, or perhaps because Martha was running after them, still waving the odd looking weapon around. Whatever it was, however, it wasn't strong enough to stop him yanking his arm back as they burst into a clearing, only to be faced by a familiar looking blue box.

"No," John breathed, raking his hand through his hair quite viciously. "No, no, no."

"John, we need to get you inside." Rose reached for his hand once more, but this time he took a step backwards before she could touch him. "John, please!"

"No!" John yelled, and his heart clenched slightly at the look of hurt that passed quickly across Rose's face.

"Professor Smith," Martha joined in as she came to a halt next to the baffled man, "you must get into the Tardis."

"This is a dream," John shook his head, taking a further step away from the women, "a dream, or a cruel joke."

"It's neither," Martha stated gently.

"Why would you do this to me?" John whirled around to stare at Rose. "I have done nothing to hurt you, Miss Tyler. Is that even your name? Who are you? _What _are you?"

Rose had felt her eyes begin to burn as John's voice gained in ferocity. "I'm Rose. And you're the Doctor."

"I am _John Smith_." John stated firmly, staring at Rose in disappointment and anger. "Boring old Professor John Smith. Listen very carefully to me, Rose, the Doctor does not exist. He is a figment of my imagination; a product of my subconscious. He's not real."

"Yes he is!" The almost-hysterical scream that left Rose's mouth echoed around the wood for a long moment, leaving the three figures standing stock still in its wake.

"I will not stand here and listen to this," John's mouth was set in a grim line when he eventually spoke and the two women knew he didn't believe a word of what they were saying to him.

A deep rumbling sound caused all three of them to look in the direction of the school. As they stared a deep orange flame burst up from behind the trees. The faint echo of screams was carried on the wind and Rose felt the blood in her veins freeze in horror.

"The school is under attack," John muttered.

"John, please," Rose's eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them, and John felt as though as voice deep inside him was ordering him to listen to her.

"I will not be a coward," John shook his head emphatically. "You can play your silly games, but I will not watch my home be destroyed."

Before Rose or Martha could say anything to dissuade him, John abruptly turned on his heel and began running towards the school.

"Bloody hell!" Martha yelled in frustration as she watched the man disappear into the darkness. "How can human him be just as pigheaded?"

"Martha, we ne ed to go after him," Rose jostled her friend as she began to hurry after John. "If The Family get to him first..."

Silence stretched between the two women as they raced towards the school, wincing each time another burst of screaming reached their ears.

"We need to find that damn watch!" Martha hissed to Rose as they reached the stonewall boundary of the school, the figure of John Smith reaching the courtyard in the distance.

Rose nodded her head. "We need the Doctor."

**ooOOoo**

Timothy Latimer watched as the chaos unfolded in front of him. Professor Mallory had come bursting into the dormitory half an hour earlier, bellowing at the boys to prepare to fight; telling them that the school was about to come under fire from an unknown enemy. Now, boys were running in every direction; piling sandbags, adjusting tin helmets, hurriedly loading guns.

"Latimer!" Professor Mallory called. "Find Matron and see if she's located the chest of gauze yet."

Ti mothy's stomach flipped over as the implication of Mallory's words settled in his chest like a dead weight; the professor was clearly expecting casualties.

"Well? Get a move on, boy," the professor yelled as Latimer stared at him in horror.

Timothy bobbed his head and ran from the courtyard, narrowly missing a collision with Professor Smith as he barrelled through the gate. The boy would be willing to swear that he once again saw a golden haze swirling around his history master.

_Find Martha,_ the voice in Timothy's mind urged him once more. _Give her the watch. But keep me hidden until then_.

Timothy shook his head, but the warm, comforting voice would not let him be. _Keep me safe._

As the young boy hurried down the corridor towards the main staircase he heard a familiar sniffing sound that made his blood run cold. He turned slowly to discover Jeremy Baines blocking the way back to the courtyard; his head was once again tilted to the side and an unnatural smile caused his face to contort into a vision of evil.

"Well, well, well," Baines grinned as he took a menacing step towards the younger boy. "What have we got here?"

Timothy gulped and tightly gripped the watch in his pocket; it felt as though it was burning his skin, branding him - but he couldn't let go.

"Where's the Time Lord?" Baines sniffed once more.

Timothy took a deep breath and shuffled backwards, wincing slightly as his back hit the staircase.

"Where is he?" Baines yelled and began advancing towards the boy at a greater speed.

_Now. _Timothy almost felt the breath in his ear this time. He reached into his pocket, flipped open the watch and pointed it at the prefect. A golden light shot from the brass casing, hitting Baines square in the chest.

Timothy shivered as the screaming voices coming from the watch built to an unbearable cacophony. He snapped the watch shut and momentari ly glanced at Baines who was now doubled over on the floor.

As the older boy began to stir Timothy wasted no more time in turning on his heel and racing up the stairs.

Martha. He needed to find Martha.

* * *

Chapter 17

Rose dropped to her knees beside Martha as a cacophony exploded in her mind. The screams of the desperate invaded her whole body as the world around her bloomed into a golden fire.

"Rose!" Martha crouched next to her friend as the blonde girl clutched at her head, her eyes open in a silent scream of horror. "Rose!"

As suddenly as they had arrived the voices left Rose's mind, leaving her feeling empty. The gold light dimmed and Rose was left looking up into Martha's frightened gaze as she tried to reclaim her breath.

"Rose, what happened?" Martha asked as Rose shakily clambered to her feet.

"They know," Rose whispered. "Oh my God, they know. They know who he is."

Martha's mouth dropped open further as the word's sunk in. "How?"

Rose's eyes widened as the information slotted into place in her head. "He opened the watch."

"The Doctor? Bu-"

"No," Rose grabbed Martha's arm and started moving her quickly t owards the school. "Timothy Latimer. He's got the watch. I don't know who he is."

"I do," Martha nodded confidently. "You get the Doctor and I'll get Tim. We'll meet back here and head for the Tardis."

Rose nodded her ascent and Martha hugged her briefly before running into the school, gun hanging loosely by her side.

Rose was still feeling shaken from the images she'd seen in her mind as she carefully edged around the wall of the courtyard. As she reached a door she had to stop and take a deep breath; she was still feeling shaken from the images that had raced through her mind minutes earlier. She'd seen the Doctor, the _actual_ Doctor, and he wasn't the man she remembered. Instead he was a murderer; the Thames Flood Barrier on Christmas Eve _The Oncoming Storm, _that's what the voices had cried. She ran a hand quickly over her face as she felt her cheeks dampen from the tears she couldn't hold back.

She'd seen a woman in a wedding dress yelling at the Doctor, telling him to stop. And he had…eventually. She squeezed her eyes shut as the remnants of a conversation she'd heard floated into her mind

_Find someone._

_I don't need anyone._

_I think you do. Because I think, sometimes, you need someone to stop you._

What had happened to him?

Rose was snatched from her thoughts as the sound of gunshots began to ring out from nearby. She hitched up her dress, pushed open the door and tore down the corridor. If the Doctor didn't know when to stop, then it was likely that neither did John Smith. Rose needed to find him, before he got himself killed.

**ooOOoo**

Tim tried to clam his erratic breathing as he crouched underneath one of the beds in Matron's ward. He had heard Baines' footsteps barrelling along behind him, but they suddenly stopped as he reached the landing. Tim hadn't looked back; he'd just kept running until he found a place to hide. Somewhere that was quiet enough to think.

He'd seen Professor Smith, no, _the Doctor_, when he'd opened that watch; he'd seen the rage, the danger, the power, and the brilliance. The world needed the Doctor, and Timothy was going to do everything in his power to keep the pocketwatch safe until he could return it to the ma n he'd heard called Time Lord.

A shuffling sound outside of the room broke the otherwise eerie silence. Tim tensed, clutching the watch in one hand, and the cricket bat he'd found in the other.

The door to the room swung open painfully slowly and Tim scrunched his eyes up in the low light to try and see what was happening.

"I've got a gun," the voice shook only slightly, "and I _will_ use it."

Tim also collapsed with relief as the familiar sounds of Martha graced hid ears.

"Where _is_ that boy," Martha hissed as she made to leave again.

"Martha!"

The woman in question had to fight to hold back the squeak of surprise that rose in her throat on hearing the hissed call from inside the darkened ward. "Timothy?"

Martha watched as the young boy crawled out from under the bed, brandishing a cricket bat in one hand as he did so. She sagged in relief as she saw the watch tightly clutched between the fingers of his left hand.

"I need to give this to the Doctor," Tim held the watch out for Martha to see.

There was an explosion of gunfire from outside and Martha reached out to grab the boy's arm and pull her out of the room after him.

"Damn right you do. And we need to do it now."

**ooOOoo**

John Smith stared in disbelief as the little girl dared the boys around her to fire. They had all just seen the Headmaster murdered in front of them and John was sure that he could not let this mindless killing continue.

"Boys," he stated, trying to keep his voice steady for the sake of the frightened children that surrounded him, "put down your weapons and get away from here."

"Professor!" Tom Mallory piped up.

"There will be no more death tonight," John stated firmly. "Now everyone, get inside."

The boys looked between the two professors as they stared defiantly at each other.

"I said," John raised his voice only slightly, but the threat in his tone was evident, "get out of here now."

The boys complied immediately.

"Oh go on then!" Jeremy Baines appeared at the school gate, smirking at the cowering boys. "Run!"

John and Tom quickly herded the boys inside as three members of The Family simply stared at them. Barricading the door as best as they could they hurried the boys along, warning them to get as far away from the school as possible.

"Tom," John took his fellow professor's arm, "find Joan and get away from here. Now."

There was something brewing in John's eyes that shook Tom slightly and he found that he could only nod at the younger man and head into the school in search of the Matron.

"John."

It was nothing more than an exhalation of breath, but John knew that he would have picked up that sound in the noisiest of rooms. He turned sharply and saw Rose Tyler staring at him, looking both thrilled to see him and horribly disappointed in him at the same time.

"Oh, Doc-tor!" John blanched as the drawn-out call of his dream adventure's name echoed through the building. It was that little girl, Lucy …or whatever it was she'd become. It no longer mattered what Rose had said to him earlier; a deep humming in his soul warned him that he needed to get her out of there.

He held his hand out to Rose in an imitation of their earlier actions and gasped out one word as he pulled her down the corridor after him.

"Run."

* * *

Chapter 18

Martha tugged Timothy to the ground as they dropped out of sight behind the tallest section of the perimeter wall. She covered her mouth with her fist, fearing that the Family would hear her laboured breathing as her lungs burned from exertion. The boy next to her was staring at the pocket watch once more with a mix of fear and fascination as he ran his fingers over the casing. He opened his mouth to speak, but Martha quickly silenced him as her ears picked up the sounds of furtive movement from nearby. Very slowly Martha raised her head until she could just see over the wall; almost crying out loud as two silhouetted figures appeared from the inky blackness.

"Martha?" One of the figures hissed quietly, and the woman in question sagged with relief as she recognised the voice. "Martha?"

"I'm here," Martha slowly climbed to her feet. "I've got Timothy with me. He's still got the watch."

Rose nodded mutely, the shadows darkening her face doing nothing to hide the worry in her expression as she carefully climbed over the wall after an equally mute John Smith. Rose wobbled precariously as her dress snagged on a jagged stone, and it was only due to Timothy's steady hold on her arms that she made it over without falling. Martha's stomach dropped when she noted that John hadn't helped Rose as she had struggled; they were clearly going to have their work cut out for them if they were going to convince John Smith of his true identity before the Family's rampage caused further destruction.

Rose thanked Timothy and with a final look at the back of John's head she squared her shoulders and strode towards the woods. Martha watched as John's head immediately turned to follow the blonde's progress.

"We need to follow her, Sir." John turned to his pupil and eventually gave an infinitesimal nod as he caught sight of the watch in Timothy's hands.

A taunting cry of 'Doctor! Oh, Doctor' from behind them spur red the remaining three to hurry after Rose as she disappeared into the trees. As they ran, Martha chanced a look at John, her heart clenching once more as she saw the war of emotions he was battling. How were they going to convince him that he was truly someone else? And, more worryingly, would his acceptance of being the Doctor mean the death of an innocent man? She was so busy studying his face that it came as a huge surprise when he suddenly stopped moving.

John Smith suddenly found himself standing before a remnant from a dream; something that could not possibly be real, could not possibly be _here_. The Tardis was bathed in the waning moonlight causing an almost-eerie blue glow to encircle the four people now standing before its doors.

"You know this." Rose spoke to him without lifting her gaze from the floor. She slowly lifted her arm, as though afraid of startling him, and gently ran her fingers of the wooden doorframe. "You know _her_."

"Why are you doing this?" John eventually spat, viciously pulling her arm from the door. "_Why?_"

Martha jumped in surprise at John's sudden anger, her hand automatically reaching out to protectively draw Timothy towards her.

"I'm not doing anything," Rose replied quietly. Oh how she wanted to scream and yell at him, for so many things, but she could see that John Smith was already broken beyond repair. "This wasn't my idea."

"So this _Doctor,_" John's words were dripping with venom, "made you do it, did he? Rose Tyler is a much as a lie as he is."

Rose couldn't hold back the flinch this time, and Martha almost ran to her; but something told her to wait, and once again she could've sworn it was the Tardis.

"So he sent you here to be my executioner," John's eyes were almost black as he sputtered in disbelief. "I'm not stupid; If he lives, I die. That's right isn't it? He got you to lie to me, make me believe that you could pos sibly….could possibly…_love_ someone like me. And I was stupid enough to believe it. You used me. He-"

"No!" Rose's anguished cry seemed to be wrenched from deep within her soul. John's eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly found himself faced with a woman whose expression he could only describe as tortured. "You're wrong. You're so very wrong." Rose gulped back a sob and finally let go of the control she'd had on her emotions. "Do you know _why_ you're wrong, John? The Doctor didn't ask me to lie to you, didn't ask me to pretend to love you, didn't ask me to do any of this. He doesn't even know I'm here; we were separated and I never thought I'd see him again."

"The friend of yours?" John breathed, not entirely aware he was speaking. "The one you lost?

Rose nodded. "I'm not supposed to be here, and neither are you."

"You need to look at this, Sir," Timothy held out the watch to an unblinking John Smith.

"No, no, no." John shook his head, folding his arms across his chest as the watch seemed to whisper at him. "I don't want to see him. I've seen him in my dreams. I know what he's capable of and I…I…I know what' he's like"

Timothy took another step towards his teacher. "He's like fire and ice and rage." John looked at the boy before him, still shaking his head slightly. As Timothy continued, "He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And...

Timothy broke off and looked between the shaking man standing before him and the tear-streaked face of Rose Tyler.

"He's wonderful." Timothy eventually concluded and stretched his hand further towards John.

John, very very slowly, reached out and drew his fingers lightly across the watch's casing. He allowed himself to take the watch from Timothy's outstretched palm and shivered as he _felt_ the whispering voices from his dreams travel up his spine.

"Tim," Martha spoke very quietly as though attempting not to spook John. "I think you should come inside with me, just for a minute. Let Professor Smith…"

Tim nodded and followed Martha into the Tardis, Rose shot them both a grateful smile as the door was closed quietly.

"If I open this watch, I'll die," John spoke without looking at his companion.

"If you don't open it…"Rose trailed off.

"Millions of people will die," John spoke slowly, processing the words carefully as he finally lifted his eyes to meet Rose's gaze. "I have to die for this to end."

Rose's face crumpled and her hand flew to her mouth. "Don't say that. You wouldn't die. You can't die. You're a part of him."

"Do you really believe that, Rose?" His voice no longer held any bitterness. "Remember, I've seen him in my dreams. He and I are not the same."

"No," Rose shook her head, her own voice cracking, "you're not in so many ways. But I thought you were the same where it counted; risking life and limb to save others, facing death with courage, at least _trying _to do the right thing."

"Doing the right thing?" John's voice was rising in volume again. "Doing the right thing? Is that what he did when he sent you away? When he put that chain around your neck and sent you away from Torchwood?"

"How do you know about that?" Rose's whisper seemed to slice through the woods as though she'd shouted. John reeled backwards, because he didn't know. He couldn't possibly know that.

"I didn't dream that," he gasped out. "You. Holding on and being pulled away from him into nothingness."

"That's him. That's the Doctor coming through," Rose was barely audible and she seemed to have a golden glow around her, light catching her hair like a halo as she frowned slightly.

"Rose!" John rushed towards her. "What's happening?"

"I think it's the watch," Rose murmured as her brain filtered the facts. "I think I'll be sent back when the watch is opened. I was brought here to help the Doctor, but I can't stay."

"Oh, God," John raked a hand through his hair. "I can't do that to you. I can't send you back."

Rose was trying desperately not to sob as the puzzle began to come together. "You have to, John. The Doctor can't exist if you do, and I can't exist in this universe."

"No, no, no!" John roared. "There must be something we can do."

Streaks of flame shot across the sky causing both of them to crane their necks upwards in surprise. The final arc of the flames was followed immediately by screaming and crying from the direction of the village.

"You have to open the watch, John."

John didn't say anything for a long moment. His eyes roamed sadly over the shimmering Rose before him and before she could speak he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Rose's eyes widened in surprise as she brought her hand up to clasp with his, their fingers closing over the pocket watch at the same time. Images flashed through their minds as though they were flicking very quickly through a photo album; Rose and John married. Rose and John with a baby. Rose and John surrounded by a family. A happy family at a quick glance, but knowing eyes could spot the worry and regret in the eyes of the two adults who appeared in each picture.

Rose pulled away with a gasping cry. "Did you see?"

John nodded silently. "Rose, take my hand."

The girl before him seemed to be glowing more brightly than a moment ago as she once more twirled her fingers with John's.

"Remember," he nodded seriously at her, "please remember that whatever happens, that whatever he says, or does, that I will always, _always_, love you, Rose Tyler, and that I would go the ends of the Earth, no, the_universe_, to bring you back to me." Without giving Rose a chance to reply he closed his eyes and opene d the watch.

"John!" Rose screamed as the man's grip was wrenched from her own. She watched in horror as John clutched his head, howling in agony as the power from the watch circled him in an ever-brightening swarm. Rose has to clamp her own eyes shut as the light reached a blinding level, the almost-painful prickling under her skin making her feel as though she was about to explode into billions of atoms. Then, as suddenly as the cacophony had started, everything stopped.

Rose slowly opened her eyes and felt her heart lurch in joy as she saw the unmistakable eyes of the Doctor looking at her in surprise.

The Doctor's mouth opened to form her name, but only an exhalation of breath escaped. He blinked.

And when his eyes had opened again, he was alone. "Rose?" He looked around quickly, as though she could simply be hiding behind a tree. A cold knot of dread settled in the Doctor's stomach and his cry of 'Rose' escaped from his lips before he could stop it.

The door to the Tardis was wrenched open and Martha stumbled towards him.

"Martha!" The Doctor roughly grabbed his companion by her shoulders. "Martha, I need-"

"Oh my God, you're back!" She threw herself around his neck before he could protest. As she stepped back she realised that Rose wasn't there; she looked questioningly at the Doctor.

"Martha, was she really here?" the Doctor sounded so vulnerable, Martha thought for a moment that he was still John Smith. "Was Rose here?"

"Yes," said Martha looking around in confusion. "Where is she? What's going on?"

The Doctor didn't reply. He closed his eyes for a long moment as his hands tightened into fists at his sides. When his lashes parted, Martha was taken aback by the anger she saw simmering just below the surface. Timothy's description of 'fire and ice and rage' no longer seemed so poetic when actually confronted with the cold glare of the last Time Lord. He turned on his heel and hea ded in the direction of the village.

"Doctor!" Martha shouted. "What are you doing?"

The Doctor paused and looked back at his companion. His face had hardened into something almost-unrecognisable "This ends now."

He didn't shout, or wave a weapon, but the cold, raw anger in his voice caused Martha to shiver in fear. Not for herself, but for anyone who tried to stop the man before her. As he turned away once more, Martha felt she was watching a man who had nothing to lose. A man who would show no mercy.

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